


Those we lost

by Ibijau



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, But he'll have to deal with consequences, Character Study, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Lynels are the best plot device, M/M, Past Character Death, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Revali goes through a redemption arc, Revali has emotions and he hates it, Revali is an asshole, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2020-07-27 03:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibijau/pseuds/Ibijau
Summary: Revali's proud of himself for needing neither friends nor family, for a strength that is his own only unlike Link who would be nothing without Hylia's Grace.Meeting the other champions forces him to reconsider that worldview, and to wonder if perhaps he's been missing out on that whole friend thing.Originally from a tumblr prompt: Revali says something mean as usual, because that's what he does, except this time he actually makes link cry





	1. Chapter 1

“I wonder who must be most disappointed, the Goddess or your father?”

Link’s hand stilled on the princess’s arm, and Revali smirked. _Finally _he was getting a reaction.

Of course, he was tragically _sad _that the princess had gotten a few scratches during a yiga ambush. The poor girl, now sitting in his house and being tended to, had enough problems already. But her knight… That damn boy, always so perfect, with his great sword and his amazing destiny he was fulfilling without a hitch… No, Revali wasn’t going to feel sorry for _him_.

“Isn’t it your entire fate to protect the princess?” He insisted. “And yet you couldn’t defend her from some measly renegades.”

“Revali, stop that,” Zelda asked. “It is nobody’s fault.”

“But that isn’t true. If he had done his job properly, you would not have suffered. One must wonder what he was doing then, when he let so much slip past him?”

To Revali’s satisfaction, Link glared at him.

“Tell, great chosen one, are you always this good at protecting those around you? I must wonder if they ever bothered to check your proficiency before they tasked you with protecting the princess. Judging by how well you did today, I can only wonder how many people you’ve left to die before, when they should have been under your care?”

Revali heard the princess’s gasp. But what really got his attention was the sudden shine in the hero’s eyes.

“He didn’t mean that,” Zelda quickly said. “Revali you cannot…”

“He’s right,” Link cut her.

The knight finished tying the bandage on the princess arm and, without another word nor a glance to Revali, he left the house. It should have felt like a victory to have made him lose it composure. It didn’t.

“You will apologise to him this instant!” Zelda ordered, rising from her seat. “That was needlessly cruel!”

“I will not…”

“You will, or Vah Medoh will be given another pilot!”

She couldn’t do that. Vah Medoh had chosen _him_.

Could she do that?

Not that Revali cared if he lost the Divine Beast, because he did not need it. And he certainly did not care either if he had hurt the feelings of that imbecile of a knight. And yet that shine in his eyes…

“I might consider it,” he reluctantly muttered. “For _your _sake. Not his.”

“Then consider it now. I will not easily forget an attack against… against a _friend _who took risks to protect me.”

Zelda glared at him and if she hadn’t awakened her powers yet, she had certainly learned to be as frightful as her father. Not that Revali was frightened of course. If he left his house in search of Link, it was only because the poor princess’s nerves had suffered enough for one day.

He found Link on one of the landing platforms, training with that ridiculous sword of his. It was never wholly unpleasant to watch that, although Revali never would admit it out loud. The knight did have a certain proficiency with the legendary blade, and there was an undeniable grace to him. Or at least there usually was; that day, for the first time in their unwanted acquaintance, Revali saw the hylian trip and fall.

Followed by Link letting out a loud “Fuck!”.

That should absolutely have been funny. The great hero of Hyrule leaving his silent glory because he had fallen on his knees like a clumsy chick. Yet Revali couldn’t laugh. Because instead of getting up again and resuming his training, the hylian knight remained on his knees as an odd shaking started spreading through his body. Almost as if he were…

“I have been sent to make my excuses,” Revali announced, the only thing he could think of doing so his heart would stop constricting that way. “Apparently my words were cruel.”

Link jumped to his feet, sword in hand and pointed at the rito.

There was no hiding the tears in his eyes.

And Revali hated that. This was supposed to be a healthy, manly rivalry. All he was asking for was Link’s attention, a little banter, the occasional duel. It was always frustrating that the hylian never reacted, but Revali had never wanted tears. He was an asshole, proudly so, but not a monster.

“You were right,” Link shrugged, resuming his exercises.

“About you being a shitty knight? Well, much as I hate to admit it, one close encounter doesn’t fully undermine your… _qualities_. Not in time such as these. Your skill clearly could still be perfected, but…”

“You were right about me letting someone die under my guard,” Link elaborated, slicing the air violently. “And this time, it could have been the princess.”

Revali stared, unsure how to react. That was the first he heard of that. He knew the chosen hero wasn’t very old, had teased him on it more than once. He knew also that he had been serving Zelda for a few years already, and she was still very much alive. How old had that boy been when he’d seen someone die?

“Who was it? A former employer?”

Link, of course, did not reply. Continued his training. Well, Revali had tried to apologise, which was more than most people could ask for. He could have gone back to Zelda, told her about it, and forgotten the whole incident.

He could have.

He did not.

“You realise of course that whoever died, the responsibility is born by whatever or whoever killed them, not by you. It was not _you _who threw them in the way of danger, and to blame yourself is…”

Link put down his sword and stared blankly at Revali.

“It _was _me. We were not supposed to leave the village, but I wanted to surprise my mother with mushrooms and I was supposed to look after my sister. I thought for a few minutes, it’d be fine. I was wrong.”

“How old were you?”

“Does it matter?” Link asked as he lifted the sword once more, arms trembling with the effort. “She’s dead. It’s my fault. You were right to say I ought to be more careful. Enjoy knowing you were right all along about me being a pitiful excuse for a knight and leave me alone.”

Again, Revali should have left. Link would not say anything more to him. It was surprising he’d even said that much when they got along so little… But perhaps the guilt was such he’d have spoken to anyone who asked him. There couldn’t be many people who tried to really prob into the mysterious life of the great chosen hero.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Revali said. “It is never easy to lose someone.”

Link paused again for a second, staring as though he was looking for the insult that had to be hidden in those words. There was none though. Revali just knew about loss.

“It was long ago,” the hylian said. “I don’t really think about it very often.”

That was a lie, and an unconvincing one at that. Perhaps that was why the hylian usually spoke so little; he didn’t seem to be a very good liar. But certainly he would have wanted to not think about it, and that was something Revali could sympathise with. There was a lot he too would have gladly forgotten too.

Link, again, returned his focus to training and this time the rito left him to it. There was little else he could have said. But as he turned to walk away, Revali wondered if perhaps there was more he could do. He still very much hated the hylian, obviously, but it might not be a bad idea to keep some of that dislike to himself. The knight, just like the princess he protected, already had enough on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a prompt on tumblr asked for hurt/comfort with Revali being hurt

Link raised his fist and they all stopped, dead silent, not daring a movement. If Revali listened carefully he could hear it, a faint growl somewhere. Not so close as to be a direct threat. Not so distant the three of them could feel safe, not in those rocky hills where their field of vision was so limited and with Zelda needing protection. Link turned to look at him and Revali avoided his eyes but still saw the gesture asking him to fly up and check if he saw something.

The rito rose quickly, with only minor instability in the airstream he’d summoned. He’d have to work on that some more, when they arrived to Castle Town. But for now, to scout around. There were no wolves, his first thought when he’d heard a growl. Then perhaps…

Revali dove urgently, narrowly avoiding an arrow that threw sparks as it passed by him. Almost immediately a second one was fired at him, barely missing him again. Fire arrows. Not something monsters or bandits usually played with because they required true skill. He glanced around, trying to find the shooter before they could aim again, and… There! On a nearby hill, a man on a horse, aiming a large bow again.

No, not a man, Revali realised, avoiding another arrow. The mount and the rider were only one being with a thick white mane and a fearsome face. He’d never seen a live one, but there were engravings, there were stories…

“_Lynel_!” he shouted to warn the other two on the ground. “It has fire arrows and it’s…”

He tried to fly away when he saw the creature aim at him again. He’d never been touched by anything in flight. The arrow that hit his chest and started burning his feathers was a very bad surprise, the pain intense enough he barely managed to control his fall. He heard steps rushing towards him, saw Zelda’s panicked face and Link’s furious one.

“Lynel,” he repeated, although breathing was getting hard. “Fire arrows. Leave me. _Run_!”

And Link certainly ran. But like the idiot he was, he ran towards the danger, not away from it. Towards a Lynel! Stupid boy, so stupid and reckless.

“You will be fine!” the princess promised, already starting to inspect Revali’s wound, trying to put away the flames. “I… I have some elixirs with me that should help you.”

Unlikely, Revali thought. He was dying, after all. And, quite dramatically, he passed out to prove it.

/////

But even death coudln’t contain Revali the magnificent, and he woke up in an unknown place. Somewhere outside, the stars above him said. Somewhere cold, the three blankets on his chest informed him. And he did feel cold, although that might just have been the blood loss. But there was a fire nearby, and a figure near it. When Revali moved, the figure came to kneel at his side.

Link.

Link who took a phial of something and made the rito drink it. Link who dug his fingers under Revali’s feathers to check for a fever. Link who inspected that there was no blood on the bandages covering his check.

Link who was caring for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Where’s the princess?” Revali croaked.

Link shrugged, still inspecting the bandages. He had to know where she’d gone, of course. He _always _knew where she was. And she had to be safe, or else he wouldn’t be losing time with someone he hated as much as Revali.

“Lynel?”

Again Link shrugged, and quickly pointed at something near them. A large, heavy bow, exactly like the one the monster had been using. But that was impossible of course. Nobody could defeat a Lynel. Even the greatest heroes of old had struggled against them, until great wars had been fought to eradicate them… or so everyone had thought. At least one had survived.

“Stupid,” Revali groaned. “Should have run.”

“It hurt you,” Link retorted calmly. “It would have hurt us.”

An acceptable argument. Lynel had once been known to hunt enemies on long distance, never stopping until their target had died. Link had to protect the princess at any cost.

“Should have run,” Revali still insisted, because he couldn’t bear the thought of letting anyone win an argument.

“It _hurt _you,” Link repeated, cold blue eyes finally meeting Revali’s. “We couldn’t run while carrying you.”

“So what? You should have left me to…”

Blue eyes glared at him, daring him to finish that sentence. Revali looked away. They had both pretended that incident on the Landing had never happened, but some things couldn’t be forgotten.

“It’s not your fault it hurt me,” the rito grunted.

“If I hadn’t asked you to fly up, it wouldn’t have noticed us. The path was out of view from where it stood.” Link stood up, looking away into the fire. “If Zelda hadn’t been there, you would be dead.”

Even with Zelda’s potions and elixirs, Revali was surprised he hadn’t died. Considering where the arrow had hit, it had probably pierced a lung. He’d been lucky it hadn’t touched his heart.

“Well, we both know you wouldn’t have missed me much if I had been killed,” Revali tried to joke, the only way he could avoid thinking about much of a miracle this was.

Link tore his eyes from the fire and looked at Revali again, his lips pinched in an expression the rito couldn’t quite decipher.

“It’s _you _who hate me,” the hylian said, turning away. “Not the other way around. I don’t… I could _never _wish for your death.” He sighed, his fists clenched. “You should sleep. You need the rest.”

With that said, Link went to sit on the other side of the fire, as far from Revali as he could, and started inspecting his shield for damages.

Revali looked up and stared at the stars, unsure what to make of that conversation. Of course Link hated him, no matter what he just said. How could he not? After the way the rito had treated him, after the abuse he’d been shouted at, after he’d been seen crying… Link _had _to hate Revali, although the rito did not feel quite that degree of dislike, only ever wanted the hylian and everyone else to recognise him as equal in skills to the hero.

_It hurt you_, Link had said, his eyes burning with a cold, rageful fire.

And when was the last time anyone had cared if Revali was hurt, really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revali is an idiot and we love him: the video game


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali was wounded, and Link reflects on where they stand

Link pressed down the ripped fabric around the wound as Zelda slowly pulled on the arrow’s shaft, the two of them kneeling on each side of the body. He hardly breathed, his hands shaking until the entire arrow head was taken out. Under his fingers the fabric was becoming moist with blood, but Zelda quickly poured an elixir on it and that brought the haemorrhage to a stop. Still Link dared not move.

“That should be enough,” Zelda announced, looking at the wound. “He was very lucky, I think.”

Lucky indeed, to have encountered a lynel when no one had seen any for hundreds of years… Link looked down at his shaking hand stained with blood, at the flesh and feathers under, burned by the fire… It was hard to think of Revali as lucky in that moment.

“I should look at you too,” Zelda offered, one hand on Link’s shoulder. “I don’t think you have any serious wounds but we don’t want them to get infected? Oh, and you don’t need to press anymore. He’ll… he’ll be fine, really.”

When Link let go of Revali, Zelda had the kindness not to comment on the way he was still shaking. But how could he not, seeing the rito like this, covered in his own blood…Link had had to carry him to a place where they could more safely camp and he’d been horrified by how light Revali had been in his arms. He’d heard the rito had hollow bones for better flying, but all he could think of was how fragile Revali seemed in that moment.

He let the princess swipe some of the elixir on his cuts and claw marks. There really weren’t many, because he had been so focused on killing that damn thing that it had been a faster fight than if one of his friends hadn’t been lying on the ground, half dead.

“I’ll go look for plants,” Zelda said when she was satisfied with her work. “I still have a phial of elixir but I’d feel safer if I could make more.”

She made to rise up, but Link grabbed her wrist.

“It’ll be fine,” Zelda assured him, putting her hand on his. “I will not go far, I promise.”

Reluctantly Link let go of her and stood up too, but she shook her head.

“We can’t leave him alone. If he wakes up and try to move… and he _will_ try to move, so you must stay and make sure he doesn’t injure himself any further.”

Link huffed, and she rolled her eyes. “I can manage on my own for a few minutes! Now, make us a fire, see if you can cook something. I’ve _read_ about lynels you know. No other monster would have dared to live on its territory.”

That did sound plausible, but Link still didn’t like the idea of letting her go anywhere alone. It was his duty to protect her. To protect everyone. He had already failed once today. Yet if Zelda was his mission she was also his princess and he couldn’t disobey a direct order, not unless the king himself was there to contradict it. He hung his head in defeat.

“Do not be so dramatic,” Zelda sighed with a small tap to his shoulder. “I shall be very quick.”

Link watched her go, tempted to follow anyway… but she had been right to say Revali couldn’t be left alone. With his cursed pride, he would probably try to get up the instant he awoke, just to pretend he was untouchable. So Link did the only thing he could. He put some blankets on the rito, and built a small fire to make the camp safer, to try to cook something also. He did get the fire going quickly, but before he could take out his pan he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Revali was waking up. Bless the Goddess for Zelda’s efficient elixirs, although he’d have preferred if the princess had been there for this… if only because he knew how Revali would hate being cared for by him.

Before anything else, Link made the rito drink some more of the elixir to speed off the process, then checked for his temperature. It was too early for an infection to be easily detected, and the wound had seemed clean, but it paid to make sure sometimes. Revali’s skin felt hot against his fingers, but that was just how rito were, the temperature still well below a fever. There also did not seem to be any fresh blood on the bandages. That was good, although there could still be internal bleeding, and then…

“Where’s the princess?”

Link glanced up at Revali, and shrugged. She was around. He’d heard her nearby not five minutes earlier. If she’d encountered any problems she would have shouted for him.

“Lynel?”

Another shrug. Link did not want to think about the monster. He had taken its bow, which he pointed at, but that was only so Zelda and the sheikah could study it. It was a strong bow, sturdy and strung tight. It had to be, to take down a rito.

“Stupid. Should have run.”

Link’s hands stilled over the bandages. “It hurt you. It would have hurt us.”

He could still hear the dull thud of Revali hitting the ground, the flame threatening to consume his feathers, the blood when Zelda removed the arrow…

“Should have run,” Revali slurred.

“It _hurt_ you,” Link insisted, trying to forget the blood. He saw plenty of blood, his own and that of enemies. It should not have had such an effect on him. “We couldn’t run while carrying you.”

“So what? You should have left me to…”

Their eyes met. Revali, wise for once, did not finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Link hated him for it, for even suggesting they could have abandoned him. Revali was a fellow champion, they needed him. He was… he _would_ have been a friend too, if only he had allowed it. And even without friendship they were comrades. Link had not been raised to abandon a comrade. Never again. 

“It’s not your fault it hurt me,” the rito grunted, a little more articulate already. Zelda’s elixirs were truly a marvel.

And Link knew he shouldn’t be debating responsibilities and guilt with a wounded man, but… 

“If I hadn’t asked you to fly up, it wouldn’t have noticed us,” he confessed, hating himself for the mistake that had nearly kill Revali. But the rito deserved to know. “The path was out of view from where it stood.” 

Link stood up and turned to the fire, the guilt of that realisation still so fresh he couldn’t bear to stay near Revali. He had nearly killed the rito. The Lynel had been nothing but an instrument, the real fault laid with him. “If Zelda hadn’t been there, you would be dead.”

He thought of blood again, of the repulsing smell of burning feathers, of a weight too light in his arms…

“Well, we both know you wouldn’t have missed me much if I had been killed,” Revali claimed.

The attack was so vicious Link had to look again at Revali. The rito had said that so casually, as if the thought were natural to him… did he really think so low of Link then? Or did he despise the hylian so much he couldn’t conceive of any other feelings between them?

“It’s you who hate me,” Link reminded him, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “Not the other way around. I don’t…” He paused for a second. The blood, the fire, the fear of losing someone dear again… “I could never wish for you death.” He sighed, wishing things were different. “You should sleep. You need the rest.”

He turned away again, and went to sit as far away as possible to better hide his distress. That rito and his cursed pride, putting walls between them when they could have been friends. They _should_ have been friends, Link thought angrily, grabbing his shield to check it for damages, his hands shaking too much to think of cooking yet. They should have been friends, because who else besides Zelda knew what it was like to have to constantly prove yourself because you were too young and too skilled and everyone wanted to see you fail so they could feel better about themselves? And he couldn’t be friend with Zelda because she was a princess, there would always be _that_ standing between them. But Revali… they were even the same age, they were both commoners and they should have… 

Link sighed again. What good were _should_ and _could_? They _weren’t_ friend. They would _never_ be. Maybe it was time he accepted that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 200% my headcanon Revali is the same age as zelda nd Link. He just looks old because of his colouring. But everything about him *screams* insecure teen...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Revali discovers he's not as big of a deal as he always thought, and doesn't enjoy it one bit

Meeting the other champions was… an experience. The elder had warned Revali that the world outside of their village was larger than he realised, that it held many other strong people. That had been true enough. For the first time in his life, Revali was meeting people and he was impressed by them. Well, he was impressed by the other champions, anyway. Urbosa so tall and strong and uncompromising, Daruk equally strong and loud and frank, Mipha who he’d mistaken for weak for half a second until he’d felt the determination in her gentle eyes, the power radiating from her. Revali briefly wondered if that was the effect he had on others too.

He lost any illusions of _that_ pretty fast. Shortly after introducing him to the three other champions, Zelda started talking to them about trade and diplomacy and many other things that flew high above the rito’s head. The champions weren’t just strong warriors, they were respected leaders in their communities, on equal footing with the hylian princess. He, on the other hand, was a fighter only, still too young to have been included in the political life of the rito… not that he even wanted that, anyway. It was all boring nonsense. And yet there in Zelda’s parlour, listening to all this very important talking, Revali couldn’t help but wish he could follow the conversation. They were supposed to be comrades, but he was feeling left aside.

At least he wasn’t the only one. Standing straight next to Zelda’s chair, Link looked just as bored as Revali felt. His eyes were glassy and distant most of the time, except whenever he heard something he didn’t like. Then the knight would roll his eyes, or barely contain a grimace. Sometimes he’d smile too, if by miracle something clever was said, usually by Zelda or Mipha. Revali didn’t realise how much he’d been staring until Link started looking his way. The first time their eyes met, Link quickly glanced away. The second time he frowned, as if surprised Revali was so interested in him. A smile formed of his lips, a way of saying all this talk between nobles really was boring, wasn’t it? But that smile was soon gone, replaced by a pained expression.

Link did not look at him again after that.

In fact, Link proceeded to entirely ignore him for the next few days. The six of them spent a lot of time together, discussing their battle plan for the predicted return of evil, preparing a little ceremony Daruk had imagined to bring them closer as a team… and in all that time, Link never so much as looked towards Revali. Not even when the other champions asked about their encounter with the Lynel, which Zelda had to narrate, since the great hero of Hyrule had only shrugged, as if it weren’t worth talking about. As if he hadn’t risked his life to save Revali, as if his eyes hadn’t burned like ice when saying _It hurt you_.

Not that Revali cared. They weren’t friends. They weren’t even close. And he didn’t need anyone’s attention, least of all that of a short knight who thought he was special just because he had a shiny sword.

It was a total coincidence if they found each other on the training grounds at the same time one late afternoon when there were few people there. Revali had absolutely not observed the hylian’s habits, had not made a mental note that Link only left Zelda’s side to train there, nor that he was clearly trying to avoid crowded moments. After all, Revali didn’t care.

It was a treat to watch Link practice with his sword though. It always was. Whatever dislike stood between them (_It’s you who hate me, not the other way around_. Those words too Revali couldn’t shake away) he couldn’t deny that the knight was a skilled fighter, a perfect mix of grace and raw power. And not just with a sword… Revali had seen him train with a variety of weapons, and had always been impressed. Even with a bow Link could hold his ground, which was impressive for a non rito. Well, it certainly must have helped to be the Goddess’s chosen one, to be born great… Revali had had to fight for everything he could do, had had to train until his hands were bleeding, until he lungs were burning. Anger rose inside him at the sight of this hylian to whom everything came so easily, and he didn’t see any point in containing it.

“I’m surprised you even need to practice at all,” he shouted, rejoicing when Link jumped in surprise. “Isn’t the Goddess just going to take over and do all the work for you?”

Link glared at him, but did not answer and just started his practice again.

How dare he ignore Revali?

“Not in a chatty mood today? Are you still mad the princess didn’t let me die when the Lynel attacked?”

(_I could never wish for your death_ but then why ignore him since that day? Because that was when it had started, that was when Link had stopped paying him any mind and Revali hated it, no matter how often he told himself he didn’t care.)

Link did not react, focused on the movements of his sword, hitting a wooden mannequin.

“All this talk of not hating me… that was really just for show, wasn’t it? Were you scared the princess might hear you if you said how much you’d have loved to see me burned alive? I guess that’s not something a hero is supposed to want, right? Must piss you off that I’m the only one not grovelling before you. But that’s because I know you’re a fraud. All your great skills, all your strength… you think you’d have any of that if you weren’t the chosen one? I’ve had to fight all my life, but you… you’re just a kid with a sword and a divine friend making sure you’ll never have any problems, aren’t you?”

The sword hit the mannequin’s neck, sending its head flying. Link still remained silent, but he was trembling. Revali smirked, glad he’d hit a sensitive chord again, glad he could make the knight angry even if he couldn’t get anything else out of him.

Revali was glad to have hurt Link again.

Wasn’t he?

He _had_ to be glad. But all he could feel was a weight in his chest when Link, after a deep breath, just went back to hitting the now headless figure. As if nothing Revali could say would ever touch him. As if nothing Revali could say would ever matter.

Well, fuck him. Revali didn'tneed his attention. Never did. Never needed anyone’s attention. He was the magnificent Revali of the rito, the greatest bowman to ever life, the only rito to ever create his own upward draft when everyone said it was impossible. He didn't care if a stupid little knight doesn’t like him.

* * *

After leaving the training grounds, Revali went straight to Zelda’s apartments. He knew the champions would be there and while their company was less than thrilling, they were the only people in this stupid castle to be worthy of his presence. When he entered, they were all sitting around a fire, talking about something that sounded very important, and aside from the princess nodding at him, they did not pay him any mind.

Oh, not again. Not today.

“Hey princess, tell your knight he’s allowed to be polite,” Revali grumbled, letting himself fall into a chair, his legs over the arms. “It’s basic decency to answer when someone asks you a question.”

Well, that did get their attention. The four of them exchange awkward looks.

“Oh, the little guy can’t speak,” Daruk explained at last. “You hadn’t noticed that?”

“He can if the mood strikes him,” Mipha replied with a sigh. “But it doesn’t strike him much these days.”

“He can talk?” the goron exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise. “I’ve never heard him, not even once!”

Revali stared at them. Link talked, _of course_ he talked. Not much, sure, but he’d had conversations with Revali a few times. How could Daruk claim to never have heard him? If this was their idea of a joke…

“Oh, he talks alright,” Revali grunted, and again, they all stared at him. “What? He does. Damn chatterbox when he feels like it.”

“He speaks to _you_?” Mipha asked weakly, a frown on her face. “But he… why?”

The surprise in her voice was so genuine that Revali had no idea what to say. He’d noticed Link tended to be silent most of the time, but he’d always spoken to Revali when they found themselves alone. Well, mostly the rito spouted as many insults and attacks as he could, and Link reacted to them or tried to change the subject.

“Don’t go getting jealous, kid,” he sneered with all the flippancy he could muster. “He’s not talking to me anymore. I suppose the likes of us just aren’t good enough for the great hero of Hyrule and his shiny sword.

“Perhaps if you were nice to him, he wouldn’t be cross at you,” Zelda noted coldly, glaring at Revali. “If you have been insulting him again… and after he saved your life, too! You should be a little more grateful to him.”

“He’s the one who sent me into danger,” Revali retorted, rolling his eyes. Or at least that was how Link felt about it. Ridiculous. Lynels were reputed for their sense of smell, if Link hadn’t asked Revali to check for danger, they’d have been ambushed and might all have died. Link had made the right call, not that the rito was in any mood to admit it. _I could never wish for your death_. What did that even mean, anyway? “Probably mad he didn’t manage to get rid of me this time.”

Zelda jumped from her seat, looking ready for a fight, but Urbosa came to stand between the princess and Revali's chair.

“My boy, you do not seem to realise we are a team,” the gerudo said, looking down at him. “I don’t know why you dislike our knight so much, but I’d advise you think hard about and find a way to get along with him. The fate of the world is in our hands, and I will not allow Ganon to be victorious just because two little boys can’t work together. So go talk to him, instead of behaving like a child.”

“So you’re assuming this is my fault?”

Urbosa crossed her arms and glowered. Revali couldn’t help cowering in his chair a little, like a worried chick who had angered their mother.

“If Link has done something to you, then tell us now,” she dared him. “We will listen, and then we will ask him to grow up just as I am doing to you now. So go on. Tell us what happened.”

Revali tried to glare at her, but that was a fight he could only lost because the gerudo was unflinching. He looked away, defeated.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him. But if he doesn’t answer…”

“If he becomes the one to create problems, I will deal with it,” Urbosa assured him with a smirk. “I have dealt with difficult children before. The two of you are nothing compared to some young gerudo I know. But be warned,” she added, gripping the back of Revali’s chair; “that if I discover you made no real effort to mend the situation, your status as champion and your little talent with a bow will not be enough to protect you from my anger. Understood?”

All Revali could do was nod. Perhaps Urbosa scared him a little. Even when she let go of his armchair and went back to her seat next to Daruk, Revali could still feel his heart beating too loud. When was the last time someone had managed to actually threaten him? He’d been above all the other rito since he was twelve, but here with those monsters of strength and power who were meant to be his teammates, he felt… inadequate.

Not a feeling he cared for, that was certain. He’d have to get stronger, to improve until he was so great even Urbosa would not dare to cross him.

But first, he’d have to apologise to Link. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing with this story and it's starting to show: the fic  
But also you can't tell me Urbosa and Daruk didn't at least once tell Revali to stop his shit and grow up


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali went too far and doesn't care.  
At least, that's what he tells himself.

Link grabbed him by the straps of his armour and pushed him against the wall, hard enough to knock the breath out of him.

"What did you tell Urbosa about me?" the hylian snarled.

Revali blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was going on. One moment he was checking his bow in a corner of the training ground, and the next...

"You told her I sent you to be shot by the lynel _ on purpose _? Really? You lying..."

"I never said that!" Revali protested, and he hadn’t. Not _ exactly _. Sure he had hinted at it, but that had just been a joke. Didn’t gerudo have a sense of humour?

"Then why did she scold me for doing just that?" Link asked, pushing him harder against the wall, stones digging into his shoulders. "Do you know how hard it was to get her respect, to prove to her and everyone that I was more than just a kid? And then you come and you ruin everything!"

Even after the many times he’d insulted him, that was the first time Revali saw Link actually angry. Maybe he should have gone and talked to the hylian the previous night, right after Urbosa had ordered him too. He’d just wanted to give himself a little time to think on what to say, on how to offer they start again from scratch and tried to be… to be what, anyway? Friends? Revali didn’t do friends, because that only brought disappointment and betrayal.

“You don’t know what it’s like to work hard for respect,” Revali spat, because he was an idiot and couldn’t stop himself. “Prancing around with your shiny sword…”

“You know that’s not true,” Link hissed, pushing Revali harder against the wall, their faces inches away. “You know it! You know what people say about kids like us, how dare you accuse me of never working hard for what I’ve got?”

“We’re nothing alike,” Revali countered, trying to push away the hylian and failing. “Mister chosen one…”

“Because you think you’re any better? You were chosen too! Vah Medoh picked you! You think that was just random?”

That was such a slap to the face that Revali stopped struggling. That was a lie. Everything he had was his own work, his own tenacity! Vah Medoh had chosen him because he was the best, not the other way around. Even without the threat of Ganon looming over them, Revali would still have been the greatest rito to ever be born.

“We’re the same,” Link spat, finally letting go of him. “I really thought… I wanted to be friends, you know. But now? After what you’ve told Urbosa? Now you can go die in a ditch for all I care.”

_ I could never wish for your death. _

Well, _ that _ hadn’t lasted, and Revali hated how much it hurt to have lost the last thread of good will the hylian had towards him. He deserved that, had done everything to get there, but it still hurt.

“Urbosa wants us to get along,” the rito pointed out, a desperate attempt at damage control. Then, because even he could see he’d gone too far this time, he added: “I’m sorry.”

Link glared at him, crossing his arms. “And that’s supposed to make it better? You’ve treated me like shit from the start when I just wanted you to like me, and finally there’s consequences, so you’re telling me you’re sorry and I’m supposed to forgive you and pretend everything is fine now? And you think I’m stupid enough I’ll be fine with that?”

Part of Revali had certainly hoped that would be enough. He could count on his fingers the number of times he’d apologised to anyone. But now, with Link glaring at him, the rito realised it would take a lot more effort than that to patch things between them and avoid being murdered by Urbosa.

“Fine. What do you want me to do then?” he asked, clapping his beak in annoyance.

Link shrugged. “That’s the thing. I’m done caring about what you think and what you do. I don’t need to like you to work with you. Grow up enough to do that too, and Urbosa will leave us alone.”

Having said his piece the hylian left. Revali did not try to stop him, trying to digest the fact he’d ruined thing with perhaps the last person to have ever shown some good will towards him.

* * *

After that incident, Revali wanted to avoid Link as much as the hylian did to him. That was easy once they were done with the little ceremony Daruk had suggested, and they all had to return to their Divine Beasts. Zelda wanted them to continue practicing with the metal giants, and had come up with a series of exercises for all of them that would culminate with target practice from long distances. They couldn’t be sure where Ganon would manifest himself, and needed to be ready for anything.

It was odd to be back in Rito Village and be once more the biggest chick in the nest. Having gone to Castle Town had increased his fame, but he pushed away all those who tried to befriend him, knowing not a single one was sincere. Instead he spent most of his time either inside Vah Medoh to master the Beast, or at his shooting range to improve himself. He was the best of the rito but he wasn’t the best in the world, and that was something he couldn’t allow. He had to fly higher, to shoot his arrows faster and with greater accuracy. He even started considering using other weapons. How hard could it be to use a sword if mister perfect hero could do it? Hollow bones put him at a disadvantage for close combat, but if it could be the key to becoming stronger than the other champions…

Combat wasn’t his only aim though. The idea of being intellectually inferior to these people rubbed him the wrong way. The other champions and the hylian princess were all well-read and educated about too many subjects to name them all. _ He _ had spent most of his childhood avoiding having to learn anything he didn’t care about, and had been a guard until he was chosen for piloting Vah Medoh. Hardly circumstances to put him on equal footing with all these noble people who must have taken him for an idiot, which he tried to explain to the Rito Elder.

The old girl listened to his rant about being put at an unfair disadvantage, nodding all the while. She was one of a few people Revali didn’t outright dislike, if only because she’d always been interested in his various pursuits. In fairness, she was interested in everything and everyone, curious and clever as the crows she resembled.

“Are you saying you want to go back to school?” she asked when he was done. “I would not be against it, but it might be hard to find you a teacher. You have something of a reputation, dear.”

“Do I need a teacher? Every single one I’ve ever had was an idiot.”

“Even I, who taught you to read? You wound me, my boy.”

Revali looked down and clacked his beak. “Fine. Maybe at least one or two were competent. But you don’t have time to teach me everything I’d need to know to beat them, and I don’t have time for idiots who will just want to show they’re better than me.”

The elder chuckled, and motioned for him to come sit next to her. He hesitated. If someone saw him sitting at her feet… he liked her, but nobody needed to know that.

“Come, dear,” she insisted. “You’ve been standing enough, sit and get comfortable. I won’t peck at you, I assure you. You’re a bit young for my tastes.”

Fearing she would just keeping insisting if he resisted, Revali gave in. He had paced a lot during his explanation of the situation, and it was nice to sit down.

“Good boy,” the elder chuckled. “Now, here is what we can do. If you’d like, you could sometimes come to the councils and learn that way about our situations and the things your champion friends need to worry about. I will make sure nobody questions your presence, because you are our very own champion, and it can only be good for us if you know how to converse with these important people. I will also lend you some of my books, if that can interest you. I should have a history of Hyrule at least, and I’m almost sure I still have that treaty containing condensed version of important literary works. It would already help you.”

It would be a start. Going to a council sounded boring beyond words, but if that was what it’d take to earn the respect he deserved… and he’d never been keen on reading anything that wasn’t about flying or archery, but he could make an effort.

“I’ll try that,” he agreed. Then, because Revali did like the Elder, and she didn’t actually have to help him, he forced himself to add: “Thanks.”

“Not something you say often, am I right?”

Revali shrugged. “I have little to be thankful for, and I won’t fake it just to please others.”

The Elder nodded, and patted his head. If anyone else had tried that would have lost some fingers, but with her it was… acceptable. Pleasant even. The last time anyone had touched him was… probably Zelda and Link caring for him after the lynel, and that hardly counted because neither of them liked him. Well, there had also been Link pushing him against that wall, furious beyond words, but that counted even less.

“Life hasn’t always been too kind to you, dear,” the Elder agreed. “But does it really make you feel better to be unkind to those around you?”

“I treat everyone the way they deserve, the same as I want done to me.”

The older rito hummed as she considered that answer. “A fair concept,” she said at last. “But do you truly apply it?”

“Of course I do,” Revali lied with the utmost confidence.

There had been Link of course but… that hardly counted, right? Just because he’d made the hylian cry… just because he’d managed to anger him to the point of no return… but that had all been deserved because… Because Link was him, only more successful. Link had friends and the respect of his people, he had a family that was rumoured to be very proud of him, and even when the whole Ganon business would be over, Link would still be a proud knight of Hyrule and probably be given an estate whereas Revali would probably have to go back to being a guard, because fame alone didn’t pay.

“Then perhaps you should try to extend your kindness even to the underserving,” the Elder suggested. “Wouldn’t you have liked that, when you were young and few saw your value?”

“I’ve never needed anyone’s pity,” Revali defended himself.

“But other might. No one should have to live without warmth, dear. If you cannot receive it, you can always try spreading it.”

_ I wanted to be friends, you know _.

Was that the reason why Link had said that? Trying to be nice to someone who wasn’t, in hope it’d change them? But there was no changing Revali. What they all called kindness he knew to be a proof of weakness, and affection was just a trap for the fools who couldn’t get by on their own. Revali didn’t need kindness, didn’t need warmth. He just needed to get strong enough everyone would look up to him, and no one would ever dare bother him.

He didn’t need anyone. And he didn’t need Link to like him.

“You’ve always been a stubborn child,” the Elder sighed. “I hope you’ll remember what I’ve told you though. You have a better heart than those who hurt you.”

Revali stood up. That pitiful little conversation had lasted enough, and he wasn’t so sure anymore that he didn’t dislike the Elder as much as he disliked everyone else.

“Nobody hurt me,” he proclaimed, striding toward the door. “I never _ let _ them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a bit of troubles deciding what to do with this fic, so it might go on hiatus once I finish posting the chapters I already have finished, sorry...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali tries out that being nice thing, just to see

“Well, that was fairly good for a first test,” Zelda said as they gathered in her parlour. “I’m sure we can improve, but that was very encouraging.”

Revali barely refrained himself from snorting. _Encouraging_ indeed. If Ganon were to attack now, the Divine Beasts wouldn’t help, that was all their little test had shown him. All of them had aimed at a flying target above Hyrule fields to see how it worked, and Revali had been the only one to actually get his aiming light on it almost right away. Urbosa had needed a good ten minutes, Daruk had struggled for another fifteen, and Mipha had never managed to aim right at all. They’d better hope Link’s shiny sword was efficient, because the Champions _weren’t_.

“So, Revali, what did you think?” Urbosa asked, one hand on her hip.

The rito shuddered. Had he let too much of his disdain show somehow? He’d tried to keep a blank face, but that wasn’t something he was too good at. He shouldn’t have had to hide, but the gerudo still scared him more than he’d have liked.

“Since when does anyone care about what I have to say?” he retorted.

Daruk slapped his back with a smile, and Revali felt his lungs detaching. “Don’t be like that, little guy! You’re our expert for this!”

A good joke, the rito thought, coughing and trying to get his breath back. He was an expert in being told to shut up if he couldn’t be nice, and that was it.

“You’re the bow guy!” Daruk insisted with irritating cheerfulness. “And you got Vah Medoh on target so fast!”

“It _ was _ very impressive,” Urbosa agreed. “Care to tell us what you thought about our performance?”

Oh, Revali had many things to say, and none of them nice. But the words of the Elder came back to his mind, about extending kindness to others even if he’d received little. Even if they hadn't _earned_ it. Ridiculous advice for sure. But, maybe that was a good moment to try that stuff. It wasn’t like they were really going to listen to him anyway, so nobody would notice.

“You’ve done pretty well, Urbosa,” he conceded. “But gerudo use bows too, so I guess you’re at least aware of the concept of aiming. With a little practice, you’ll probably be as fast as me. Daruk, you were too forceful, your aiming light went all over the place. You’ve got to be a little more careful. Maybe if we could get you a crossbow so you can practice aiming at thing… regular bows wouldn’t work for you, it’d be too much work to learn how to draw the string without breaking anything and it wouldn’t help for the Divine Beast. You did get it in the end so you should be fine too if you keep trying.”

Daruk nodded, still smiling. It was odd. People didn’t usually smile when Revali pointed out their failings.

Mipha sighed. “And I am hopeless. Perhaps Vah Ruta needs a different champion…”

“It needs a zora,” Revali cut her, “and any zora will struggle same as you. Amphibious eyes are nice and all, but that means you’re going to get shitty vision in at least one or both of your environments. You’re not built to look into long distances in the air.” Mipha’s shoulders slumped, and Revali rolled his eyes. “I’m not built to create updrafts,” he pointed out. “Link is seventeen and he carries a sword that has rejected countless grown men, knights and generals. _ You _ can heal people with your weird magic thing! We all do impossible things. This is just one more, and we’ll figure it out.”

The zora stared at him for a second, a shy smile slowly forming on her lips.

“Thank you for that. I will gladly welcome your help.”

That was odd too. People never thanked Revali for his advice. Usually because they had never asked for it in the first place and he had just yelled at them for doing things wrong. And when he glanced at Link, curious as to what the hylian might think of that, Link was looking back at him with something like curiosity. Well, that did sound better than the cold hatred of the last few weeks. Maybe being nice did work after all.

* * *

The problem with being nice was that people expected you to stay nice once you had started. Daruk had taken him very seriously about the crossbow thing, and kept asking for lessons from Revali, which the rito reluctantly agreed to. It was hard sometimes to not yell at the goron who had neither skill nor taste for distance weapons, and tried to compensate with sheer enthusiasm. At the same time, Daruk always listened, always tried to correct his mistakes once he understood them. It wasn’t unpleasant for Revali to have that sort of authority, to have someone as strong and admired as Daruk treat him with respect. Maybe he still didn’t know shit about trade routes and alliances and politics, but if you wanted to aim something at something else then he definitely was the right person to ask.

Even the sheikahs had started asking for his opinion. They needed to modify Vah Ruta so it’d be better adjusted to Mipha’s sight, since apparently zora eyes had changed a bit in the last ten thousand years. Revali couldn’t tell them how to do that, but he could tell them what to aim for (ah!) and what he thought they should improve on.

The little zora princess was very grateful for his help indeed, and insisted on chatting with him often. It was not as annoying as Revali might have expected. Unlike Daruk who had always managed with raw power, Mipha understood the need for more subtlety in combat when nature hadn’t gifted you with pure strength, although by her own admission she soon wouldn’t have that problem anymore.

“Growth spurt,” she explained with a little laugh. “In a year or two at most, I’ll be at least as tall as Urbosa. To think just three years ago I barely would have reached Link’s waist…”

Revali couldn’t help a grimace. Just what he needed, more tall people. At least Link and Zelda should remain smaller than him. Right?

“Do you think he’s done growing? Until how old do hylians continue growing anyway?”

“I think he still might gain a few inches?” Mipha admitted, tapping her lips as she thought about it. “It’s hard to say. Hylian’s growth is odd, they do it so slow for such a short lived species…”

“I reached my current size when I was seven, and that’s a reasonable age for it,” Revali agreed. “To still be growing at eighteen, that’s…”

Mipha giggled. “Seven! How young! I am fifty one, and I am a little early for my final growth spurt. At seven, I was… well, my brother is _ six _, and he’s little more than a tadpole with teeth.”

“And at fifty one I’ll be almost too old to fly,” Revali retorted. “I’ll be another boring old man who thinks young ones are all idiots and can’t get any respect because his techniques are already dated.”

That got another giggle out of the little zora princess who put one hand on his arm with a smile.

“I’m sure you will not be so bad! And the young ones of tomorrow will be sure to respect your prowess, if they have any brains to them. Isn’t your new updraft technique something that will pave the way for new possibilities?”

“Only if I can perfect it,” Revali admitted, before cursing himself for letting that slip. They were technically on the same side but… but Revali knew nobody actually ever was on his side, and that any admission of weakness could be used against him, just as he’d use it if someone else was stupid enough to show doubt in front of him.

But Mipha just nodded and patted at his arm gently, as if to comfort him.

“Of course you will perfect it,” she assured him. “I believe in you.”

She did not tease him or mock him. She didn’t give him a look of pity or disdain, nor show any indication that she’d known all along he was a fraud. Instead Mipha just smiled calmly, as if she sincerely believed he could do what he aimed for. So she was either an expert of manipulation, or she was in earnest.

“You know, people usually say thank you when they receive encouragement,” she teased him. “Just a little tip to help you make other friends.”

Except Revali didn’t need friends of course, so she could keep that tip to herself. And yet his thoughts went to Link, to whatever bond they might have had if he’d been just a bit smarter about things. Maybe a little gratefulness would have helped with that.

“Thanks,” he said at last. “For the advice too. I suppose I _ could _ try that.”

Mipha beamed at him and, well, maybe he didn’t entirely hate that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd that was the last publishable chapter I have on this. As mentioned before, I've been a bit unsure where to take this fic because I fear I made Revali too unlikable :D so it's kind of in hiatus until I can decide what (if anything) to do with this story.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of Revali's past is revealed, and Daruk makes a questionable decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for your patience on this fic! I've had this chapter written for a long while, but didn't want to post it until I know where to go from there. I'm starting to figure that out though, so hopefully I can start updating this again!

The next target practice sessions went well. With each new attempt, Mipha’s control were changed to better adapt to her vision until she could aim nearly as well as Revali. As for Urbosa and Daruk, they hardly had any problems anymore. Revali allowed himself some pride on their behalf. They weren’t doing too badly, and some of that was thanks to him.

Daruk agreed with that sentiment, and insisted on taking Revali to a goron restaurant, as a reward for all he’d done. The rito tried to refuse, but all his protests were ignored and Daruk simply dragged him to the place. At least he was lucky that the goron had chosen a place that also had non-rock items on its menu.

“Well, that all sounds lovely but I’m not actually hungry,” Revali announced after a quick glance at said menu. “And why didn’t you invite everyone else anyway?”

“Mipha and Urbosa say they can’t digest it,” Daruk explained, shaking his head as if he pitied them for it. “The princess is busy seeing some things with the sheikahs, and if she can’t come neither can the little guy even though he likes this place. So it’s just the two of us, being good pals! And you should try the curry, that’s their best organic food.”

Revali felt tempted to point out he wouldn’t even feel the burn of the hot pepper in that, but thought better of it. The sooner that meal was over, the sooner he could go back to doing something useful like training or reading the history book the Elder had lent him. It was more interesting than he’d have expected, but he was a slow reader.

“So, how are you liking life as a champion?” Daruk asked him when they had ordered. “Must be a change for you, eh?”

“We don’t need to talk,” Revali assured him. “I don’t mind the silence.”

Well, as much silence as there could be a goron restaurant. Which, it turned out, was no silence at all.

“Nonsense! We are comrades, little guy! And I know we were a bit rough with you at first, especially Urbosa. She doesn’t like how cold it is here, it makes her pretty grumpy. And you were a bit rude about the other little guy. How are things with him now?”

“I’ve stopped bothering him, just like Urbosa wanted.”

Daruk nodded. “Yes, I wouldn’t like to make her angry either. She can be intense, it’s wise to stay on her good side.”

Their dishes were brought in, and it did all look delicious. At least, Revali’s plate looked delicious. He saw little appeal in the slab of rock that had been served to the goron.

“I’m not scared of Urbosa you know,” he pointed out, knowing he’d never dare to say that anywhere she might hear it. “I don’t care if she gets angry. I’m working on becoming much stronger than her and in a few weeks at most I’ll be powerful enough to defeat her easily.”

Daruk laughed, slapping his belly. “You’d never beat her in combat,”

“Of course I will. Just you wait!”

Daruk only laughed harder, starting to attract some attention. As if their odd duo hadn’t already done that enough.

“No, you won’t,” the goron cheerfully exclaimed. “But it’s okay, she’d never beat you at archery and she knows it. You’re our expert for that, remember? She’s the one who asked for your opinion, the first time we tried the Beasts.”

That was true, but it brought Revali little comfort. He wanted her to feel the same fear for him that he now had for her. He wanted to enter a room and have people step out of his way as they did for her. What was the point of anything if he couldn’t give that same impression of raw power and authority to the people around him?

“We’re a team,” Daruk reminded him. “We’re all good at something so the others don’t have to be. We count on you, you count on us.”

“I certainly don’t count on any of you,” Revali hissed, offended. “I count on myself only. Always have, always will.”

“A good way to dismiss all your parents did for you, little one,” Daruk accused as he crunched on his slab of rock, and some of his mirth had left.

“They left me with a cousin just a few weeks after hatching. I don’t owe them anything.”

The rito didn’t even remember their faces, he’d been too young for that. He’d always thought it a blessing, because it meant he could pass by them and never have to recognise the first people to have believed he wasn’t good enough. They, on the other hand, might have heard of him by now, and he hoped they regretted not sticking around to enjoy some of his fame. He hoped they would try to contact him someday, and give him the joy of refusing to even speak to them.

Daruk frowned, putting down his food. “Well, that cousin at least…”

“Trust me, when I say I’ve only counted on myself all my life, I mean it,” Revali cut him. His cousin hadn’t gotten rid of him, but that was about the nicest thing he could say about that asshole. “It’s fine. It’s made me stronger than everyone around. See, I don’t need people. I’m better than that.”

He made a point to not look at Daruk’s face, focusing instead on his plate. The last thing he wanted was to see horror or pity directed at him. That was always people’s reaction. But it was all in the past. And his cousin hadn’t been the parent figure of the century, but they’d also never asked to have a child dumped on their door, so at least the two of them were well matched in having their lives ruined. Revali had made the best of things. Without any real family, without any friends, without distractions of any sort he’d been free to train until every muscle in his body screamed in agony, and that had made him so much better than all those loved idiots around him.

“Mammals are really something else,” Daruk muttered, dumbfounded.

Revali looked up, his feathers puffed up. “I am not a mammal! How can you… A mammal? We lay eggs!”

“Don’t all mammals do that?”

“That is literally the one thing mammals don’t do!” Revali shouted. People looked at him but he didn’t care. _A mammal!_

The goron shrugged, clearly unconvinced. “If you say so. Still odd to me. To breathe life into a child and then decide you don’t want it…” he shuddered, and gave Revali a long look. “So you don’t have family. Well, that’s a true shame. I suppose I might have to adopt you then.”

“You what? I’m an adult, nobody’s adopting me! Didn’t you hear me say just now I don’t need anyone?”

But Daruk ignored him, mumbling to himself about the things he’d need to do to adopt the other champion, and how he hoped the kid he already had would be nice to his new brother. He seemed dead serious about that, and it was such madness that Revali decided the moment had come for him to leave. He tried to get up from his chair, but Daruk grabbed his wrist and forced him down again.

“No, no, let’s celebrate this! It’s a happy day!” He gestured to the waiter. “Hey, bring us something nice to drink! Vinegar for me, and something fermented for the kid.”

Revali slumped onto his chair, mortified. “I don’t want…”

“You’re like a kid who doesn’t want to try quartz because they look a bit sharp,” Daruk cut him. “You can’t know if you’re never tried. You’ll like having me as a dad, I promise.”

That was absolute madness.

“So what, you’re going to be my father on trial?”

“Exactly,” Daruk exclaimed with a large smile. “You can’t know that you don’t like having someone to count on if you’ve never tried. And the best person to count on is a parent. So I’m adopting you. We’ll only make it official later if you want, but I’m not changing my mind about trying it.”

The drinks were brought and Daruk gave a toast to his new son. People around them applauded, the organic folks with confusion, the goron with clear enthusiasm. Revali begged the Goddess to open the floor under him and let it swallow him, but of course he’d never be that lucky.

At least the cider he was given tasted good.

* * *

Of course, Daruk had to tell people about his new decision. Revali had begged him to keep silent and the goron had agreed, but apparently it was impossible for him to not at least share with their fellow champions. The fact he was drunk had probably not helped.

And because the goron was so obviously tipsy, the other champions had chuckled at first, much to Revali’s mortification. But Daruk had insisted and explained to them how the adoption process worked for gorons, and the others had become quieter as they slowly realised how serious he was. For a moment Revali hoped someone would save him from this madness, but instead they just congratulated Daruk and him on this decision and decided to have a private little party.

This was absolute hell for Revali, but at the same time it wasn’t so bad. Princess Zelda had asked the kitchen to send them some delicacies and drinks, so there was a least one nice side effect to this awful situation. Besides it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to relax like that. For months now Revali had thought of nothing but piloting Vah Medoh, and proving how much better than everyone he was. He couldn’t deny a break was appreciated.

And it was intriguing to hear Daruk speak about the child he already had. It sounded like the goron missed his little one dearly, and there was pride in his voice when he spoke of all his son could already do, how strong he was. Even when he complained about him being a picky eater, there was a fondness and affection in his voice that made Revali almost uncomfortable. No one really felt that much love for their children. Did they? Then Urbosa started sharing stories about her two nieces with just as much open affection, while Mipha offered anecdotes about her baby brother. They were all gushing about their little ones, enthusiastically answering Zelda’s every questions.

It was pathetic.

A pity for these children, Revali decided. They’d learn too late the true nature of the world, with those people around them to make them believe in love and trust. Kids raised like that could never become truly strong.

The more the others went on talking about love and pride and all that crap some people tried to feed their children, the more Revali withdrew. Before long he was leaning against a wall, away from all that agitation. It was getting late, surely the princess would need to sleep soon. Or maybe he could leave first, a good way to remind everyone he’d never asked for any of this.

Before he could do that, he was joined by Link who rested his back against the same wall.

“You’ll have to be nice to your new little brother,” the hylian warned him in a low voice. “He’s a good kid.”

“Are you speaking to me again? What happened to me being free to go die in a ditch?”

The hylian rolled his eyes and straightened up. “If you’re still going to be an ass…”

Revali grabbed his wrist. “Stay. I’ll try to behave.”

“Hm. You know, you don’t have to worry about Daruk. He did the same to Zelda, and then stopped when we pointed out she already had a father. He just can’t stand to see people being sad.”

Then it was easy to imagine the pity he must have felt for the hylian princess. Even Revali felt sorry for her.

“I’ve never been sad a single day in my life though,” he protested without any real bite. “He just got that idea all on his own when I mentioned I don’t have a family.”

Link tilted his head and grimaced. “Most people would call that sad.”

“Most people are weak.”

Again Link rolled his eyes, but this time he didn’t try to leave. For a moment they just stood side by side, observing the others still in the middle of their very animated conversation. There was something not uncomfortable in doing that. It wasn’t the first time Revali felt excluded from discussions happening in Zelda’s parlour, but for once he didn’t mind it so much. Both of them had good reasons to avoid talking about their families, and perhaps in that at least they were similar.

But at last, Zelda started yawning and though she was clearly not particularly eager to sleep, they all took it as a sign the party was over. About time too, Revali thought, though he wouldn’t hate if they all hung out that way, without any talk of Ganon and destiny. It hadn’t been as bad as he had feared. He might even have called it nice to just be next to Link and talk without anyone getting angry.

“You know, you’re not so bad after all,” Link said with a smile, his hand coming to Revali’s arm and lingering there a few seconds too long. “I still haven’t forgiven you but… now I think maybe I might one day.”

The hylian moved away to say goodbye to the others, taking with him the warmth and pressure of his hand on Revali’s arm. The rito was stunned at that light touch, so casual and yet so impossible because Link hated him, had made it quite clear.

_You can go die in a ditch for all I care._

_I could never wish for your death_.

Which one was true then? Revali’s instincts told him it was the first, because that was how people always felt about him. How he made sure that they felt about him, so they wouldn’t bother him.

But that gentle touch hinted more at the second, and that was terrifying. The main reason Revali had been free to try out this kindness thing was that he had nothing to lose. The other champions hated him. Link hated him. And if they all hated him then they wouldn’t be disappointed when he failed at being nice, which was sure to happen because it was a constant struggle to not barf out every mean thing that passed his mind. But if even a single one of them cared…

Revali cursed himself. He did not need their good opinion, and it was weak of him to care what they would think once he went back to his normal self. They were not his friends, none of them, because he didn’t have friends. Because once Ganon had come and been defeated, he would never see them again, Link least of all. He didn’t need them, and they certainly didn’t want him.

Well, that was mutual, and to prove it he dashed out of the room without a word.


	8. Chapter 8

“Of course, Revali too should come with us,” Zelda said.

Looking up from the book on goron society that he’d been struggling to read, Revali glared at her. He didn’t know what had been discussed while he wasn’t paying attention to the other champions gathered in her room, but he was nearly certain he didn’t want to be included in it.

“Not sure where you’re going, but I’m not coming along.”

Zelda gave him a very unimpressed look while Urbosa crossed her arms on her chest, ready to scold him for once again being inconsiderate. Before the gerudo could say anything, Daruk was at Revali’s side, tapping one hand on his shoulder. The goron had finally figured out that Revali wasn’t made of blasted stone, and he was trying hard to be more gentle when touching him. If Revali had had his way, nobody would be touching him at all, but apparently that was out of the question.

“The princess said she’s going to the Spring of Power,” Daruk explained. “And she’s stopping a bit in Goron City on the way because she wants to look at some things we’ve noticed about old Rudania.”

Knowing the princess, that meant she wanted to look at the Divine Beast, but she’d had to find an excuse that would better suit her father’s expectations for her.

“Right, you said it pops up flying guardians if other people approach it when you’re not in, is that it?”

Daruk smiled and nodded, patting Revali’s shoulder as if he were some kid who had recited his lesson properly. He’d done that a lot in the last few days, since making that stupid decision of adopting Revali. The rito hated how patronizing it felt, but he’d lasted this long without having a fight with anyone and he was looking forward to going home and telling the Elder how he’d tried being nice and it just wasn’t working for him.

“It’s simply fascinating, Zelda said. “A new type of guardians! And they only appear to be coming from Vah Rudania, although it seems some of those that were released have since made their way to Akkala Citadel and are patrolling it. I want to see if they are armed or only exist to alert about intruders, and…”

“Lovely. How’s that my problem? Rudania isn’t _ my _Divine Beast.”

“You’re the only one of us who can fly. These guardians don’t seem to ever land, so I will require your assistance to get close and take pictures of them to better understand how they work. Besides I was thinking perhaps some could be transferred to Vah Medoh to strengthen it.”

A wonderful idea, when Zelda didn’t even know if those things were weaponised. Revali opened his beak to refuse, but Daruk patted his shoulder again and smiled at him.

“It’s also a good chance to spend more time together!” the goron said. “You’ve never been to Death Mountain, have you? It’s a great place, you’ll love it. You can stay there with me when these two go to the Spring, and then we’ll all come back together. And you’ll meet your little brother!”

Revali couldn’t prevent his feathers from ruffling at the thought. That was everything he most wanted to avoid all thrown together: Daruk’s attempt at caring, Zelda’s unrestrained experiments, and Link’s presence. The only thing that could have make this worse would be for Urbosa to join in.

Bless Mipha for being the only person around who didn’t make his life a living hell.

If he’d been in his right mind, Revali would have repeated his refusal to come to Death Mountain. He didn’t like being too hot, and he didn’t like Daruk (a lie; the goron was impossible to truly dislike), he didn’t like Zelda (not entirely untrue, though he joined the other champions in pitying the girl and resenting her father) and he certainly didn’t like Link (another lie for sure, though he’d have been hard pressed to decide exactly what sentiment the hylian inspired him. Annoyance perhaps?). All Revali wanted was to go home and practice his Gale and his archery until he was too exhausted to be bothered by the emotions that plagued him when he was around the other champions.

He should have denied Zelda’s request.

Instead he found himself looking at Link, who was staring back at him. Was that a challenge in the hylian’s eyes? Or hope perhaps? There was something there for sure, telling Revali that Link wanted him to come along, while also being certain he wouldn’t. 

“Fine, I’ll come,” Revali announced, staring at Link and delighting in the shock he saw on the hylian’s face. That’d teach that damn boy to think he knew what to expect from him!

The problem, of course, was that Link wasn’t the only one surprised by his decision. Daruk shouted in joy, almost convincing in his pretence that this _mattered_ to him, and pulled Revali into a hug.

“You’re going to love it!” Daruk promised, patting Revali’s head and messing with his feathers. “It’ll be great fun for all of us!”

“Yes, I almost wish I could come too,” Mipha said with a soft chuckle. “I have a feeling it would be _ most _interesting.”

Revali glared at her, betrayed by the only person who, until then, had never appeared to rejoice at his misery. He got his revenge when Daruk grabbed her by the arm to pull her into their hug.

“You could come too!”

“I can’t stay so long away from water,” Mipha protested in a strangled voice. “Not in such a warm place, anyway. I would be delighted otherwise, I assure you, I so want to meet your little one. Perhaps another time you can bring your _ sons _to Zora’s Domain?”

“Yes, we’ll do that,” Daruk agreed, releasing the two younger champions. 

He did not notice Revali clapping his beak at Mipha in a threat, nor the way the zora giggled as if she knew the rito would never actually attack her. Only because she wasn’t an opponent worthy of him, Revali told himself, as if Mipha wasn’t a fearsome fighter when she bothered. Absolutely not because he somewhat liked that girl and could tolerate some light teasing if it came from her.

If it had been annoyingly slow to travel with Link and Zelda before, that was nothing compared to having Daruk in the group. The goron wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly had trouble understanding that he didn’t need to stop every five seconds to sightsee, or that he was allowed to pick up his pace a little bit from time to time. To make it worse, Zelda didn’t appear to mind. Why would she? All that awaited her was more praying and, without a doubt, more disappointment when her powers still wouldn’t awaken. To her, travelling with Daruk was great fun, and the goron was very happy that she didn’t mind all his questions.

They tried to include Revali in their discussions. Sometimes when Daruk spotted a neat rock formation or Zelda found an interesting frog, they called out to Revali who was either flying high above or walking far ahead. It never was for anything he particularly cared about, but they were always excited enough that he didn’t mind the intrusion too much, and tried to pay attention when they explained why it was, in fact, very interesting. Once or twice, Revali _did_ find himself astonished by what they said, like when Zelda explained about some elixir that multiplied the strength of those who drank them. Or when Daruk told him that rocks could become liquid if they were hot enough, which was how lava was formed. That sounded impossible, but everyone knew gorons didn’t lie and that they knew more about rocks than anyone else, so Revali was forced to at least accept that might be true.

On the whole, and in spite of his occasional irritation, Revali did his best to remain civil. He needed to be nice, at least until he saw the Elder again. He wanted to tell her he’d tried to do as she’d advised and that it had failed because no sugar coating could ever make him likeable, certainly not to people like the other Champions who didn’t know what it was like to constantly have to fight. 

It wasn’t easy to stay nice like that, not when aside from the occasional interesting trivia, Zelda would also try to spend hours catching frogs and insects if no one stopped her, or try to escape while they were sleeping so she could go study a shrine she’d spotted in the distance. That slowed their journey more than Daruk ever could. Revali struggled not to shout at her whenever that happened. His only comfort was the anger and annoyance he saw each time on Link’s usually blank face, mirroring his own emotions. It was easier to keep his calm when he knew even mister perfect hero was struggling. In the end, it was Daruk who lost his patience and scolded Zelda when one morning she tried to leave them behind. Again.

“You’re a better kid than that,” he told her. “We all like you a lot, and we worry when you go alone like that. How do you think we’d like it if something happened to you, and we were sleeping because we thought you were safe?”

“I am safe!”

“A few years ago, I’d have agreed, little girl. But now, with lynels and yigas and all sorts of other things that have returned to Hyrule? It’s a dangerous world out there. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?”

The glare Zelda gave Daruk said plainly that she didn’t _care_ if she was hurt, though she did not dare to voice that thought. Not when the goron was looking at her with such open and sincere concern.

“You’re a good kid. You promise you’ll stay with us now?”

The little princess nodded, which got her a hug from Daruk, and that was the end of it. She did not try to wander off on her own again, much to Revali’s surprise. She had promised, sure, but that didn’t mean much, did it? Maybe that was just the effect Daruk had on people. He always seemed so earnest in trusting them that it was hard to even think of disappointing him. Even Revali himself wasn’t immune, or he’d have refused to come to Death Mountain.

Death Mountain was a hotter place than anything Revali had ever experienced, though nowhere near as bad as what he had been expecting. He’d thought he’d be roasted alive the instant he stepped on that volcano, but he just got unpleasantly warm.

“No, it’s livable for organic people too when the mountain is asleep,” Daruk explained when Revali voiced his surprise. “And there’s not been a real eruption in centuries. Not that it’s fully peaceful either, apparently that’s another sign of Ganon returning, right princess? Still, you should be just fine here.”

Just fine was an exaggeration. Even without being cooked on his feet, Revali couldn’t call this blasted place comfortable. He was born to live in the heights of Tabantha where freezing temperatures were the norm, not this hellish place that hadn’t ever seen snow, not even in winter. It had been a mistake to agree to come here, and if Revali had had any sense of self preservation he’d have gone home.

What kept him on Death Mountain was curiosity. 

It started when they reached the first mine on the way to Goron City, and all work there stopped the instant Daruk appeared. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few weeks, but all the gorons flocked to him as if he’d left for years, asking how he’d been and how long he’d be staying, trying to tell him about what had happened in their lives while he wasn’t there. Daruk smiled as he listened about stories of new granite veins and someone thinking of having a kid. It would have taken Revali about five minutes to get tired of this (which he knew because he got tired just being a bystander) but the goron Champion seemed delighted to be getting news from everyone and asked questions as if he really cared about that stuff. In fact, if Zelda hadn’t reminded him that they still had a long way to the city, Daruk might have stayed there for several hours by the look of it.

“Sorry, just got a bit caught up,” he said with a laugh as they started walking again. “You know what it’s like to be home again, eh?”

One glance at the two hylians told Revali that, just like for him, returning home was nowhere near this warm and exciting for them. At least, Daruk noticed their reaction and he shook his head.

“Still thinking of adopting _ all _of you kids,” he sighed. “Then you too, you’d have someone waiting for you to come home like this.”

The hylians avoided his eyes, and Revali just shrugged. To be awaited this impatiently and have to listen to boring stories sounded pretty horrible, and certainly not a point in favour of letting Daruk go through with his stupid adoption plan. Not that anything could convince him to allow that anyway, the rito reminded himself. Family was a weakness at beast, a burden at worst, something he didn’t need either way.

That was why Revali felt no envy whatsoever when they arrived in Goron City and a little pebble of a kid rolled into Daruk’s arms with enough momentum to knock him on his back. And his heart remained cold when Daruk, big oaf that he was, cried happy tears as he hugged his little one and commended him for his strength.

“Hey Yuno, look who came to visit!” Daruk exclaimed as he stood up, still holding his little one so tight that the kid had to feel crushed, and pointed at Link. “It’s daddy’s friend! And we brought even more friends for you to mee!”

The child gurgled happily and waved at Link who waved back with a small smile. Zelda jumped to Daruk’s side to meet the baby, but little Yuno cried out in fear at the intrusion and tried to hide against his father’s chest. Daruk laughed and pet his son’s head.

“It’s okay Yuno, she’s a friend. Daddy’s brought lots of friends.”

He motioned for Revali and Link to come closer too. The hylian promptly obeyed, of course, but to his own surprise so did Revali. It was just curiosity, he told himself. He’d almost never seen gorons before this champion business started, and he’s certainly never met a child until that day. The little one really did look like a rock, more so than the adults around it, especially when it was nervous and trying to hide, and he was small enough to fit in Daruk's hand. It was good camouflage, and Revali appreciated a specie with a sensible protection system.

Before he could be stopped, the little goron leaped out of Daruk’s arms and into Link’s, nearly toppling him over. Revali couldn’t help but laugh at that, while Zelda struggled not to do the same. Link ignored them. He was delighted to be holding the little one, even though the child’s weight made that a little difficult, and affectionately bonked their forehead together.

“I see you remember Link,” Daruk chuckled. “Hey, little guy, my Yunobo’s grown a lot since last time, hasn’t he?”

Link nodded with a wide grin. With great reluctance he handed back the baby to Daruk, before massaging his arms after the short but intense strain. Little Yunobo didn’t mind though, holding tight to his father and babbling nonsense while Daruk pet his head. It was disgustingly sweet, if Revali had to be honest, but he supposed that was to be expected after some separation. Even his cousin had sometimes tolerated some cuddling when he’d been very little, though it never lasted long because his cousin was an adult, and thus too busy for his neediness.

Strangely, Daruk didn’t tire of carrying his son around. He didn’t ask him to shut up, even when the baby continued babbling while other gorons came to give him news of the volcanic activity on the mountain. He did not get angry when Yunobo pulled on his hair or suckled on his scarf, leaving damp spots on the beautiful blue fabric. He did not threaten the child with punishment when, at dinner, he was difficult about eating certain rocks, trying instead to eat some himself to show his son how delicious they were, which somewhat worked.

It had to be because they had an audience, Revali decided, baffled by all that coddling. This was just Daruk trying to convince him to play along with his mad adoption plan, and playing the perfect and adoring dad to fool Revali into thinking he’d get that too. Why, though? Daruk had nothing to gain by taking him in. Revali was a nobody, a simple guard until his skill had been noticed and he was chosen as a champion. If Daruk wanted to gain a political ally among the rito, Revali was the wrong choice because everyone back home despised him as much as they envied his talent.

Daruk had to want something though. It wasn’t possible to go to such length out of sheer kindness.

Was it?

Annoyed that he couldn’t understand Daruk’s true motivations, Revali found himself unable to sleep that first night in Goron City. Rather than to turn and toss where the other three might see him and where he risked waking Yunobo, Revali headed out to fly around. He never liked to fly at night usually, because of cold air currents, but that was one good thing about this stupid mountain, at least: plenty of ascending currents everywhere. From high up, the place didn’t look half bad, with deposits of luminous stones lighting up like constellations on the volcano’s flanks and the faint, reddish glow of peaceful lava flowing near the summit. Even the sound of distant drilling and hammering wasn’t so unpleasant. Revali would never say it out loud, but he wouldn’t mind staying there a little bit, even with all those gorons around.

When he touched ground again (after a long, long time up in the air. _ Bless _those warm currents) Revali felt more relaxed than he’d care to admit. Even the sight of Daruk waiting for him at the door of his house couldn’t dampen his mood.

“Thought you might have had enough and decided to go home,” Daruk laughed. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, I guess that’s pretty different from Tabantha, eh?”

“Warmer for sure. But don’t worry if I decide I’ve had enough, I’ll tell you before I go.”

Daruk nodded solemnly. “Good to know. Never too sure what to expect from you, I’ll admit, but that’s also why I thought it’d be nice for you to come here. Well, that and I wanted you to meet my little Yuno.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t introduce me as his new brother.”

“Not until you say you’re okay with it, little guy,” the goron explained, his tone more serious. “I know you’re not on board for now, and Yuno would be disappointed if I told him he’s gonna have a brother and then that he won’t. He’s a sensitive little pebble.”

Revali clicked his beak, unsure what to make of that. It was more of Daruk trying to woo him into believing he was a great dad, that was obvious. Nobody really cared about that sort of things. Kids got siblings whether they liked it or not, and sometimes something happened and they didn’t. Nobody cried over a cracked egg, or if they did it was just because they’d had several blank eggs before, or to make a show of what great parents they’d have been. Revali had always counted it as a blessing that his familial situation ensure he’d never had siblings to pretend he cared about, and if he had ever considered taking Daruk’s offer, the existence of his son would have been a serious con.

“You coddle that kid too much,” Revali complained.

“Better too much than too little, my friend,” Daruk laughed. “Kids need to know someone has their back.”

Revali grimaced at that very ridiculous statement. They’d see in a few years if Daruk still thought that when Yunobo wouldn’t be able to do anything on his own because he’d always had help for everything. Revali had seen kids like that back at home, coddled and happy, never challenging themselves because they were comfortable with what they had and thought they needed nothing more. Not one of them would ever had his drive to always strive for improvement, and he could only pity them for how they enjoyed their own mediocrity.

“Nobody’s ever had my back and I turned out great,” Revali boasted.

“Listen little guy, no offence but you’re the most fucked up person I’ve ever spoken to,” Daruk sighed. “If anything, the more I speak with you, the more I want to make sure my little Yuno knows how proud I am of him. And I’ll tell you, too, because I think you need to hear it. Maybe it'll help you be a little kinder. You’ve had it tough, but that doesn’t mean you’ve got to be tough on everyone else now.”

Well, that stung a little more than Revali would have expected, but he couldn’t say he was surprised that Daruk had a low opinion of him. As for the rest… that was more or less what the Elder had told him during his last visit, wasn’t it? That he needed to be nicer. And he was trying, really, but it was hard and apparently he was extremely bad at it.

“Sorry, that was pretty rude,” Daruk said, scratching the back of his head and yawning. “Been a long day. Still, shouldn’t have said that. Can’t call you out and then say stuff like that.”

Revali shrugged. He’d heard worse. He’d told himself worse.

“Why are you still up if you’re so tired?”

“Had to see if you’d be coming back, of course. Only way I could convince Link to go back to sleep, and he needs it more than me. Don’t know why the princess can’t stay here a day or two before going to that Spring of hers, but that’s their choice.”

“Link’s awake too?”

“Not anymore I hope,” Daruk laughed. “I told him I’d wait for you. It’s like I told the princess the other day: the world is a dangerous place these days, and it’s not very nice on everyone who likes you to go and disappear like that.”

The implication that, somehow, Daruk and Link _ both _liked Revali didn’t escape the rito. Another ridiculous notion of course, born of Daruk’s too big heart and his tendency to see the best in everyone. Still, it was odd to think of Link perhaps worrying about his whereabouts, of him wanting to wait for Revali. That concept wasn’t as unpleasant as it should have been. If Revali hadn’t ruined everything, if they had been friends, maybe that could have been real. Maybe he could have gone flying sometimes and found Link waiting for him, ready to hear about they things he’d seen up there. Or if Link had been the one to go away, following his princess in whatever crazy research she’d come up this time, before returning to Revali and telling him about the horrible things she’d tried to make him eat this time… that would have been pretty pleasant, wouldn’t it?

If only they’d been friends. If Revali had been forced earlier to pretend he could be kind.

Too late for that now.

“I’m not Zelda, I can hold my own,” Revali grumbled, annoyed by this little fantasy of something he could never have. “Don’t wait up next time, and don’t worry: when I’m tired of seeing you spoil that kid until he’s weaker than an egg in vinegar, I’ll tell have the decency of saying bye before I leave.”

Not waiting for an answer, he dashed inside Daruk’s house. As he walked to his sleeping spot, Revali passed by Link who raised his head to look at him, but the rito ignored him. In the dark he couldn’t see the hylian’s expression, and that was for the best.

He couldn’t decide what would have been worse: Link’s annoyance or his relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goron seem to live super long and so I like the idea of Yunobo being Daruk's son, fight me


	9. Chapter 9

One little goron raised his hand and waved it impatiently until Daruk finished his explanation on safety beams and let him speak.

“But don’t they get sick from eating grass?” the kid asked in a whiny, insistent tone that had Revali roll his eyes.

It had been Daruk’s _brilliant_ idea to organise a visit of a mine so Revali could better understand how goron lived. That could have been somewhat interesting, so the rito had carelessly agreed. He had nothing better to do than hang out with Daruk, since Zelda and Link had already left for the Spring of Power, and he was curious to see how exactly mines worked since they weren’t common in Tabantha.

The problem was that Daruk had then decided to turn that little visit into a full blown excursion for all the goron kids in town, thus forcing Revali to help him babysit… and forcing him to also hear all the ridiculous questions they had on subjects that rarely coincided with what Daruk was actually explaining to them. 

One child in particular had turned out to be absolutely obsessed with non goron lifeforms, perhaps because of Revali’s presence, and he wouldn’t stop asking about that.

“They’re made to eat it,” Daruk explained with the same patience he’d had for all previous questions. “For them it’s eating rocks that’d make them sick. Take Revali, you’ll never see him eating pebbles, even if he’s starving!”

All the little gorons sitting around him gasped at this concept, but Revali shook his head.

“Actually, ritos _ do _eat pebbles sometimes,” he corrected. “It helps digest food sometimes.”

“Really? Well, I didn’t know _ that _!” Daruk laughed, as if he didn’t mind that he’d been proven wrong in front of a small crowd. “Mammals are full of surprises!”

Revali clapped his beak at being called a mammal, but let it pass for that time. Correcting and contradicting Daruk in front of others again would be bad for the goron’s image, and Revali did not want to be that mean. Besides, no matter how many times he tried to explain that he wasn’t a mammal, Daruk never seemed to understand the difference. Why bother?

Unlike him, Daruk didn’t mind having to explain the same thing over and over, even when the reason those kids didn’t get what he was telling them was their own lack of attention. That same kid who had just asked about non-gorons eating rocks now wanted to know why the galleries of the mine had metal beams everywhere. Revali knew the kid hadn’t listened to a _word_ Daruk had just said If it had been him in charge of this little excursion… but Daruk wasn’t him. Daruk smiled and explained again, a little more simply this time, with that same annoying patience he had for everything.

Not that Revali always minded the kids’ endless questions. Sometimes they asked something that was surprisingly relevant, something that he’d have wanted to ask too if it hadn’t been against everything he was to admit ignorance. Once or twice, a child even enquired about something he hadn’t even thought to be curious about, like the dangers of gaz (they could faintly smell it, but Revali _ couldn’t _ and it gave him a fright until Daruk assured them such levels weren’t dangerous) or the risks of encountering lava as they dug (the answer was a lecture about the texture of rocks changing, or something similar that Revali couldn’t quite understand but he might ask Daruk again in _ private _).

As they all left the mine and started heading again toward the town, that one kid became curious again about Revali. And this time, instead of bothering Daruk as he had done all day, the child decided it would be simpler to directly ask the rito.

“Why’s your hair all weird looking?” the child (Aji? It might have been Aji) asked, instantly letting Revali know that this had no way of being a pleasant conversation. “Hylians and gerudos don’t have hair all weird like that.”

“They’re feathers, like on a bird. Do you know what a bird is?”

“You’re too big to be a bird,” the Aji noted, nodding wisely at his own statement and clearly feeling very smart for noticing that.

“And birds can fly,” another, Tanko, pointed out.

All the children agreed to that. Revali threw a pleading look at Daruk so he would handle their questions, but the goron Champion was busy trying to dislodge Yunobo who was falling asleep on top of his head. No help would come from there.

“Ritos can fly,” Revali announced, which probably didn’t deserve the utter shock and many gasps that the goron children let out. “Not quite like birds, but close enough. We use air currents and…”

“Air doesn’t have currents,” Aji protested. “It’s just _there_.”

“And what do you think wind is?” Revali snapped, shocked by such ignorance. And yet… what reason would they have to know? Winds were probably of little importance to them, just as he knew virtually nothing about rocks. He took a deep breath. If Daruk could be patient, so could he. “Air moves all the time, you just don’t think about it. Every time you move, air too moves around you. Birds can use that to fly and so do ritos.”

To illustrate his point, Revali waved his wing toward the children as if it were a fan, creating a light breeze. Amused by that new idea, they started waving their own arms around to do the same. Different physiology made it hard for them to be effective at it, but at least they were entertained for a couple minutes and left Revali alone. It did not last.

“Show us how you fly!” Aji demanded with an excited grin. “Show us!”

“That’s not…”

“Show us!” the little goron repeated, quickly joined by the rest of them who chanted with him. “Show us! Show us!”

Again Revali glanced at Daruk who was now rocking his son in his arms. The goron looked intrigued by what had happened in those few moments where he wasn’t paying attention. He cocked an eyebrow as if to ask Revali if he needed him to intervene. Accepting that offer would have been the smart thing of course. He couldn’t take flight easily here, at least not the normal way, and his gale still wasn’t a hundred percent successful, might never be…

At the same time, Revali had never been one to miss a chance to show how extraordinary he was.

“Make some space,” he ordered, freeing a large circle around him so none of the kids could get caught in the updraft. He wasn’t sure the currents would be strong enough to move a goron, however young, but he couldn’t take the risk. When he was satisfied he had enough room for his demonstration, Revali knelt down and focused until he could feel his own breath and the displacement of air with the most minute movements of his wings. Calling forth the magic natural to all ritos, he enhanced those infime air currents, forcing them to grow in size until they released as a powerful column of winds that carried him high into the sky.

When he touched the ground again, all the little gorons erupted in cries of joy, shouting how amazing it was to see him soar, asking how he did it and if he could teach them. 

“Only ritos can fly like that,” Revali claimed. “And not all of them can do it like me. The others need to jump from a high point, I’m the _only_ rito that has _ever_ taken flight from the ground.”

“That’s why you’re the champion!” Tanko exclaimed. “You are so cool!”

“Yeah, you’re the coolest!” another little goron agreed. “I bet you can fight real good too!”

“Of course I can,” Revali said, soaking in all that admiration like a sponge. After weeks of not fully measuring up to the other Champions, it was so pleasant to finally be seen as the living wonder that he was. “Before I became a Champion I was a guard, I trained hard so I could protect my village.”

“Like my uncle Bludo!” Aji said in an awed whisper. “You really are cool!”

Glad that finally someone was noticing that, Revali could prevent his feathers from ruffling proudly. He didn’t even mind when Daruk laughed and patted his shoulder.

It wouldn’t be so bad to keep going on with this ‘being nice’ business if it could get people to properly appreciate his skills.

When all the kids were returned to their rightful families, Revali found himself alone with Daruk and his son. He didn’t mind that, he realised. Daruk was loud and naively optimistic, but he was fairly good company. There was something not entirely unpleasant in someone who always found something nice in any situation. Revali would have been happy to have dinner together and even chat a little before going to sleep, but Daruk had other plans.

“I was thinking I’d leave Yunobo with my friend Buldo for a few hours,” the goron explained, bending down to help his son climb to his waist before letting the baby handle the rest of the trip up his body. “Then I might give you a little tour of Rudania, eh? It’s pretty neat to be inside, even if I don’t know what half of the buttons do.”

To that offer, Revali only shrugged. It felt odd to think of going into another Divine Beast. He wouldn’t have said that Vah Medoh was jealous because it was just a machine, but it still felt a little like a betrayal. He would never have let anyone inside Medoh without a good reason. Even the sheikahs he barely allowed inside, and only if Zelda left him no choice. He’d always thought of his Divine Beast as something private, an extension of himself almost, with how much time he was spending up there when nobody forced him to come down among ordinary people. It felt odd to hear that Daruk viewed it differently. It felt… uncomfortable.

Of course, Daruk took his silence for consent and plans were made. After dinner Yunobo was left with Bludo. He cried at being separated from his father, even when Daruk promised he’d be there in the morning, and Revali felt something he couldn’t quite identify. Mostly he found himself wondering if he’d cried too when his parents left, and if they too had promised to return. It was unpleasant. He preferred to avoid thinking about those people too stupid to see his potential. Besides, the situation was very different: only death could prevent Daruk from returning to his son, if even that.

Still, the goron was rather subdued as they walked toward his Divine Beast, clearly affected by the tears of his little one. Usually Revali would have mocked him for his coddling, but it was getting dark around them and nighttime was always a little hard for him. He’d only gone along with this visit of Rudania because he had trouble sleeping in the heat of Death Mountain, and hoped tiring himself out would help with that. And perhaps, just perhaps, he’d also agreed because Daruk had seemed so excited to show him his Beast.

Well, in fairness, Rudania was a rather neat little machine. Once the awkwardness of being inside someone else’s Beast had passed, Revali found himself very interested in Daruk’s explanations about his machine. It was so different from Vah Medoh, so much less… aggressive. Like his own Beast, Rudania had some emergency defense mechanisms supposed to activate in case of intrusion, but nothing as brutal as Medoh’s deadly canons. Instead it had that army of little guardians that popped up from some storage room deep inside. They were weird machines, those flying guardians. They didn’t have weapons either and seemed to do little more than alert Rudania of an unknown presence. Nothing that looked like it might be useful to have around Medoh, but of course the princess might be of a different opinion and she was, technically, their commander. Maybe she’d see in those stupid flying pieces of metal something more valuable than Revali did. He hoped she didn’t. He didn’t like their stare, and didn’t want them around Medoh.

“So, what do you say?” Daruk asked when he’d shown him everything, from the flying guardians to Rudania’s extraordinary climbing skills. “It gave me trouble for a while, but I think I’m starting to get along with it just fine.”

“It’s a good machine,” Revali agreed, too sleepy to act tough. “It fits you.”

The goron beamed. “I’m glad you think so! Sometimes I wonder if someone a little younger and faster thinking wouldn’t have been better for this, but I’m doing my best and I think Rudania knows it.”

That was silly of course, because Vah Rudania was nothing more than a machine who couldn’t think for itself. Revali didn’t say that, though. It was a silly idea, but sometimes he’d felt the same with Medoh. There was a presence to the Divine Beast that almost made them feel alive, and Revali knew Medoh trusted him. Why else would it have chosen him?

“You know, you’ve been pretty great today,” Daruk said with a wide smile. “I didn’t expect you to be this good with kids. I know not everyone can handle them, and I know patience isn’t your thing, so you’ve really impressed me.”

In spite of Revali’s efforts, he felt his feathers ruffle at those words. A ridiculous reaction because Daruk was just following his stupid plan of flattering him into getting adopted to get… whatever it was he actually wanted. Still, it was oddly pleasant for his efforts to have been noticed. After all, the hardest thing about this whole attempt at being nice was that most of the time, people didn’t notice. They thought kindness was owed to them, and didn’t realise how hard it was sometimes not to shout at them how stupid they all were.

But Daruk knew. He’d seen Revali, if not at his worse (he’d inflicted that only to _Link_) then pretty close to it. He knew how much effort went into just being _ decent _.

Praise, from him, meant something.

“Thanks,” Revali muttered, desperately willing his feathers to lay flat again and failing. “It was… not so bad. Today was pretty interesting. Gorons really are different.”

“I could say the same of ritos,” Daruk retorted, patting Revali’s shoulder with a laugh. “Still, be warned, I think some of the kids took a shine to you, so get prepared to handle that.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Revali huffed.

A gang of tiny admirers… he’d manage that all right. And he’d be _ nice _about it, too.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people mentioned it'd be nice to have a Link pov so... here we go !

Zelda had stood in the middle of that spring for hours upon hours, praying and begging for something to awaken within her. So finally she could be the daughter her father wanted, the power Hyrule needed. By the end she was shaking in her ceremonial dress, her lips blue from the cold, her cheeks streaked with tears.

And yet the Goddess hadn’t given a single sign of approval. 

Link had been forced to drag the princess out of the water before she made herself sick. She’d been too weak to resist, to exhausted to protest when he helped her outside of the sacred enclosure to their camp. He had wrapped her in a thick blanket while he lit a fire, pretending not to notice the tears of despair and frustration she did not have the strength to stop. He had wished, as he always did after such attempts, that he knew what to tell her to give her hope. Words never were his strong points, or he would have told her how important she was to their little group of fighters, holy powers or not. She was their commander, someone they all trusted to make the right decision, someone whose determination and curiosity they all admired. Even  _ Revali  _ respected her authority, and that was an accomplishment more incredible than any godly powers.

But in that moment, perhaps his silence wasn’t such a bad thing. After this harrowing day, the princess needed a little quiet, a little warmth. Link made sure she had both, and baked some apples for her, to give her a quick boost of energy. It was all he could do for her until she had recovered from this new failure. If the others had been there, perhaps they would have known better how to comfort her. In a few months, when she would be allowed on Mount Lanayru, Link would suggest that the champions all came along. It would be their last hope after all, and Zelda would need all her friends with her when the Goddess still rejected her.

_ If  _ Hylia still rejected her, Link corrected himself, glancing guiltily at the princess, as if she might have her his traitorous thoughts. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her, after all. There was little Zelda could not accomplish when she put her mind to it, she was clever and stubborn enough for anything, but this… this did not depend on her, and Link never knew how much he trusted the Goddess.The fact that She had chosen him, out of every hylian, was proof enough that She wasn’t as wise as the priests said. After all he’d killed his little sister. What sort of a Goddess picked a murderer for her champion? His parents had never forgiven him for what he had allowed to happen to their daughter, and sometimes Link wondered if being picked as champion had not been little more than an elaborate punishment for his crime. Between him who was unworthy of Hylia and Zelda who couldn’t awaken her powers, Hyrule was in very bad hands. At least there were the other champions and the Divine Beasts…

Looking up toward Death mountain, barely visible from where they were, Link sighed. He hoped that things were going well up there for Daruk and Revali. The goron was a good man, too kind and too generous at times, but if Revali had insulted little Yunobo… Daruk could forgive many things, but he loved his little one dearly and he would not allow anyone to harm him. This, combined with Revali’s gift for always saying the most insulting thing possible at the worst time, without fail… Though he’d been a little better lately, hadn’t he?

Another sigh, and Link tore his eyes from the volcano. There was no doubt Revali had changed in the last few weeks, ever since that huge argument they’d had, though he was by no mean a model of kindness either. It was still a surprise every time Revali opened his beak and forced himself to say something nice, or apologised for something mean he’d said. It had always sounded forced at first, though lately there was something genuine in his voice when he complimented Daruk on his aiming, or congratulated Mipha for her progress with Vah Ruta. Initially Link had been convinced Revali was just scared of Urbosa (rightfully so) and wanted to avoid her anger, but now…

He couldn’t stop thinking about that moment at their little party, when Daruk had said he wanted to adopt Revali. The companionable silence they shared while the other spoke of their family. The way Revali’s green eyes shone so bright when Link said he was thinking of forgiving him, how his feathers ruffled ever so slightly as if he’d been hit by some strong emotion… it was awfully self centered of him, but Link sometimes wondered if the changes in Revali’s attitude was only due to Urbosa’s threats, or if perhaps the rito wanted to atone for hurting him. Against his better judgement, Link hoped the second option had played a role, however little, because it might mean a chance for them to be friends.

Link sighed again, half angry at himself for the way he clung to that need to be friends with Revali. He had more important things to worry about, so why did his thoughts always return to that damn rito, to the grace with with he flew, the raw power of his magic, his eyes greener than forests, his laugh when for once his mood took a turn for the best, how damn easy it is talking to him when around everyone else words get stuck in his throat…

“I’ll do better next time,” Zelda mumbled, startling him out of his thoughts. “The Spring on Lanayru is that of wisdom, it is the aspect of the Triforce that has always been most closely associated with the royal family. I’m sure when I’m there, it will work. It has to.”

Link bit his lip, guilty weighing him down. While he was thinking of his ridiculous feelings, Zelda only worried about their country, about doing what was right. Still unsure how to comfort her, Link put one hand on her arm and tried to smile at her. It was the princess’s turn to sigh as she shuffled closer and dropped her head against his shoulder.

“Father will be angry again. Do you think I should have tried harder? If I hadn’t given up so soon…”

Knowing well that she’d still be kneeling in freezing water if he hadn’t forced her to stop, Link shook his head. Try harder? There was nothing more she could do to prove her devotion, she’d given up on everything she loved to try and get Hylia’s approval, abandoning her studies to focus on prayer…

“He’ll really be furious,” she whispered, huddling closer. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Maybe Daruk should really adopt you,” Link replied.

He felt her body shake against his and looked down, ready for tears… instead, he found her struggling not to laugh.

“Don’t tempt me,” she joked. “I swear if Revali accepts, I’ll be jealous.”

The idea of Revali agreeing to that deal was so ridiculous that Link found himself chuckling along with the princess who stopped suppressing her laughter. The rito had changed and for the better, but there was no way he’d ever give up on his status as a lone wolf. He liked his independence too much. Even working as a team with the other champions was an ordeal for him, so accepting one of them as family…

“Let’s head back for Death Mountain in the morning,” Zelda decided when she calmed down. She was still resting against Link’s shoulder, to which he did not object. Words failed him, but this sort of comfort he could give her. “And I suppose… we’re in no hurry to return to Castle Town after that, are we? I _do_ need to check on Vah Rudania’s new guardians after all.”

Link nodded. He liked the volcano, so staying there a few days sounded like a nice plan. It might mean spending time with Revali though, and he couldn’t decide how that made him feel. A mix of excitement and dread.

He sighed again. It didn’t matter. In all likelihood Revali would have grown tired of playing nice, and he’d have flown home by the time they got back.

Zelda paused again to check the slate’s map, a deep frown on her face. It had been her idea to try for a shortcut through mountain passes. Link had reluctantly agreed because she was a princess and he wasn’t technically allowed to contest her decisions, but maybe he should have. Taking the normal road would surely have been a lot shorter than all this climbing up and down and those narrow ridges above deep cliffs. Twice they had to jump above crevices where they saw magma slowly flow. And there were those small monsters made of living rocks...

“We’re very nearly there!” Zelda assured him. “There should be… yes! A road!”

About time, Link thought fiercely. He’d gladly sleep for a few days after this, though he knew Zelda wouldn’t let him. She was always more adventurous after praying at a Holy Spring, with a higher tendency to take risks. Link was so grateful to be on a proper road again, especially since he thought he recognised that part of the mountain. They were not very far from Goron City at this point. They just needed to pass the hot spring, and then…

“Do you hear that?” Zelda whispered urgently, springing to his side. “Something ahead…”

Unsheathing his sword, Link motioned for the princess to come behind him as he listened for signs of trouble. They’d met some yigas a few days earlier, it paid to be prudent. And… yes, certainly, Link too could hear noises coming from the road, something that sounded like cries.

_ Children’s cries. _

With his free hand, Link ordered Zelda to be quiet and follow close behind him. Some rocks were blocking their view of the source of those cries, so Link carefully stepped closer, mindful of any noise he might make yet not wanting to go too slow. If children’s lives were at stake he had to be quick. It might be bokoblins again, like that fateful day, years ago. Or it might be something worse, old monsters right out of legend like the Lynel that had nearly killed Revali.

Link’s grasp tightened on the handle of his sword as he finally moved past the rocks… and allowed a soft gasp to escape his lips.

There were children indeed, a dozen goron ones, and while they were crying, it was not of fear but out of delight as they played in two pools of water so warm that small clouds of steam hovered above them. It was as peaceful a scene as could be imagined, save for the fact that Link couldn’t see a single adult with them. Knowing how protective gorons were of their little ones, it was unexpected.

“There’s people!” one child shouted, alerting all the others that instantly rolled on themselves, blending perfectly with the other rocks.

Before Link and Zelda could explain they were there as friends, there was a violent air current in front of them. Link found himself face to face with the pointy end of an arrow. At the other end there was a bow held by Revali, who lowered his weapon as soon as he recognised the hylians.

“Oh, it’s you. It’s okay kids, it’s safe,” he shouted toward the little gorons. “They’re friends. Don’t you remember seeing them just, what, two weeks ago?”

“Hylians all look the same,” a little goron mumbled, the one who had given the alarm. “Sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“You’ll do it again, and you’ll be right," Revali retorted. "You can never be too careful, and that was the right decision.”

While Revali praised the child and encouraged the other little gorons to uncurl, Zelda and Link exchanged a look. Neither had expected the rito to be one for babysitting, let alone to be somewhat good at it, judging by the smiles of the young gorons around him.

“I’m glad to see you’re working on building good relationships between species,” Zelda politely noted.

“It was Daruk’s idea,” Revali grumbled, his feathers ruffled as if he were embarrassed to have been discovered doing something kind. “Those kids adore me, as they  _ should _ , and they wanted to have their own little adventure, so…” he gestured at the pools. “Swimming trip. If you can call it that. Rocks don’t really swim, but apparently the little buggers don’t breathe either so it’s fine.”

“Daruk allowed you to supervise all these children?” Zelda insisted with a frown. “On your own?”

Revali laughed, and pointed up the road where Vah Rudania was wandering near the base of the Volcano.

“Daruk’s in there and ready to come help if there’s trouble,” Revali explained. “Just need to send up one bomb arrow and he’ll know there’s enemies to be taken care of.”

“How astute,” Zelda admitted, glancing at Link who shrugged.

It wasn’t monsters that had worried them about this situation. They both knew Revali was a fierce warrior, capable of swiftly eliminating that might pose a threat. He was also very reckless though, and Link at least wouldn’t have been surprised if Revali had just planned that whole thing on his own, half kidnapping children on a whim. Still, if he said Daruk was around, Link trusted that to be true. Revali was many things, but not a liar.

“So, how was your trip, princess?” Revali asked. “Did it work this time?”

Zelda’s grimace was an answer in itself, and the rito had the kindness to look disappointed.

“Well, there’s always next time. And at worse, we’ll just have to manage without your magic.”

The princess turned deathly pale at the words, struck by the accusation even if Link suspected Revali must have intended that as a comfort. It was what they all thought after all, that they would most likely fight Ganon without Zelda. Still they weren’t supposed to say that out loud, especially not right to her face.

“Your trust touches me,” Zelda hissed. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep going. It’s been a long day and I’d like to…”

“You  _ do  _ look awful,” Revali agreed. “The village isn’t far, but you should relax a bit before. Hey, Aji! Come here a second!”

A goron child, the one who had spotted the arrival of the hylian, hopped from a rock and came closer.

“Yes, big bro?”

“Don’t call me  _ that _ ,” Revali grumbled with a glance at the hylians, his feathers ruffled once more. “Listen, this is my friend princess Zelda and she’s a little tired. Can you find her a good spot in the water and keep the little ones from bothering her too much?”

“But you said I’m on watch duty!” Aji protested, pointing at his earlier perch. 

Revali sighed, and for a moment Link sure the rito would lose what little patience he’d shown so far. Instead, Revali took a deep breath and patted the goron’s head.

“I’ll take over that, go take care of the princess. You know all your questions about Vah Rudania? Well you can ask her, _she’s_ the one who knows everything about the Divine Beasts.”

“Not everything!” Zelda protested, in vain. Aji’s eyes had lit up the instant Revali mentioned Rudania, as did those of the closest children who all but ran toward the princess and surrounded her.

Aji, taking his orders very seriously, forced the other little ones to give Zelda some space, and gently took her hand to lead her to a nice flat stone on which she could sit with her legs in the water if she wished to. The little gorons encouraged her to do just that and sat around her, chattering together and asking a hundred questions all at once. Zelda appeared a little overwhelmed at first, but once she started answering the children calmed down and listened in rapture.

“Well, that’s something I won’t be bothered with again,” Revali muttered. “I swear, these kids ask so many questions, it’s like no one ever taught them to shut up.”

The rito had crossed his arms on his chest, but he didn’t look half as annoyed as he was trying to sound.

“You can’t tell her that we’ll fight Ganon without her,” Link still scolded him, staring at Zelda. She seemed a little less upset now that she had a chance to talk about something she knew well, but Link knew the pain of her latest failure would soon reemerge.

“We’ll fight him with _her_ alright, just without that stupid magic power she’s supposed to have,” Revali retorted. “It’s stupid that she’s still forcing herself to do that, just because her father is too dimwitted to see what’s her real strength. She’s good at gathering information and understanding new things, and she knows how to give orders and organise the people working for her. She’s our commander and she’s good at  _ that _ .”

That was a good point, but while Link had often thought the same, it still didn't help much. For years they’d been told they needed Zelda’s holy power. She’d been all but told by her father that she was worthless to the country until she figured out how to unlock it. They had all learned to master the role fate had given them, all but her, and he knew how it hurt her.

“You look about as shitty as she does by the way,” Revali noted. “Looks like you’ve been frowning so long, there’s dirt encrusted into the lines around your eyebrows. She’s not the only one who should relax in the hot springs, is what I’m saying.”

Link shrugged. He was a little tired perhaps, but he blamed Zelda’s shortcuts for the state of his clothes and his face.

“I’ll wash later. I’m on duty for now.”

“ _ I’m on duty now _ ,” Revali mocked. “It’s not just about being dirtier than a bokoblin in a swamp, it’s about you needing to rest and relax. The water’s pretty hot, bet you’ll like it.”

Another shrug. The offer was certainly tempting, Link had enjoyed the local hot springs before and knew how good they felt. Still, he couldn’t get his guard down in such an open area, not even with two fellow champions nearby. It was his mission to protect Zelda at all costs.

“The ghosts of Hebra help me, but you’re stubborn,” Revali grumbled, grabbing Link’s shoulders and trying to push him towards the water. “Come on, try to have fun for five seconds of your stupid life.”

“I have to make sure…”

“You need to relax,” the rito insisted, pushing with all his strength for a moment before trying to pull on Link’s wrist instead. “And people say  _ I’m  _ stubborn!”

If Link had the advantage of his weight that made it difficult for Revali to force him to move, the rito’s advantage was that he was a nasty bastard who didn’t care about playing fair. When he realised how little progress he was making toward getting Link into the water, Revali simply kicked the hylian’s shin to make him lose his footing. It worked rather too well; Link found himself falling toward the water and only had time to grab the nearest thing he could in an effort to avoid that: Revali himself, who fell alongside Link into the hot spring.

“Oh I’m going to murder you for this!” Revali hissed, hastily trying to get out of the water only to slip on the slick stones at the bottom of the spring and fall back at Link’s side. “Look what you’ve done!”

Link looked. He couldn’t have  _ not  _ looked if he tried, both his hands pressed against his mouth in a failed attempt not to laugh. Revali looked, for lack of a better term, like a big wet cucco. His feathers were stuck close to his body, giving the impression he’d lost half his mass, while his still mostly dry head was dropped on top of that skinny and slick pole, the contrast making it appear twice as big as it really was.

“Guess you really are big headed after all,” Link muttered, still struggling not to laugh.

“Oh you think it’s funny?” Revali retorted, carefully standing up again and shaking himself. 

He shouldn’t have, because now his feathers stuck together in messy clumps, giving him the air of a tall, disgruntled hedgehog. Link desperately wanted to make a joke about the rito’s prickly personality, but then he’d laugh for sure and he knew Revali’s pride would not stand for it.

“Hey, Zelda, look what your stupid knight did to me!” Revali complained to the princess who, like Link, was trying her best to contain her hilarity. “I won’t be able to fly for days!”

“In all fairness, you attacked first,” Zelda replied with a strangled chuckle. “And I think it was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“An  _ accident _ ?” Revali repeated a little louder, and Link braced himself for the burst of anger that was sure to follow.

No shouting came. Instead Revali carefully stepped out of the pool he’d shared with Link, and walked to the second, slightly bigger one where Aji and the gorons had installed Zelda.

“Let’s see how this is for an accident,” Revali chuckled, letting himself fall into the water at her feet, splashing the princess and her retinue of little gorons. 

She gasped in shock but the gorons laughed at that trick and, not wanting to be left out of some good fun, they all started jumping into the water, drenching poor Zelda to the bone. For a second the princess glared at Revali, speechless, but when he started laughing she soon joined him.

“You are the worst!” she complained cheerfully, kicking the water toward the rito, as if that might do anything when he was probably wetter than her already. “Link, come and protect me from this traitor!”

Obedient even in the middle of a game, Link stood up and carefully made his way to the second pool. He was mindful not to kick any of the frolicking gorons, more out of concern for his own toes than for them, but that proved to be his downfall. While all his attention was on the children, he did not notice Revali’s approach until the rito firmly pulled on his ankles, making him fall into the water with a triumphant laugh.

“See?” Revali told Zelda. “Told you I was far above him on all levels. It truly is _me_ who should have been Hylia’s chosen hero, not some…”

Before he could finish, Link launched himself at Revali and pushed him into the water, much to Zelda and the gorons’ hilarity. Link grinned triumphantly at the rito who had ended up under him, his wet feathers sticking out ridiculously in surprise.

“Move, you’re too heavy!” Revali grumbled, trying and failing to push him away.

“Say you’re sorry,” Link retorted, his grin widening at the sight of the proud rito struggling under him.

“Sorry for what? I haven’t done anything wrong this time!”

“You got the princess wet!” Aji exclaimed, which got him a glare from Revali… except that wasn’t quite as impressive as usual when it came from under clumps of slicked feathers, so the little goron shrugged it off. “You did, and just after you said we had to be nice and not bother her too much!”

Revali’s betrayed expression was so theatrical that Link had to bite his lip not to laugh.

“He’s right, you  _ did  _ attack Zelda,” the hylian pointed out. “Even you should count that as wrong.”

The rito’s glare hardened, and for a second, Link worried that he’d gone too far. It was quite incredible that Revali hadn’t gotten angry over being wet or being bested even in a game, but this, being asked to apologise over something so inconsequential when he often didn't manage to do it when he _knew_ to be in the wrong…

And yet Revali still didn’t explode in rage. He just huffed and looked away, muttering a vague 'sorry' toward Zelda. It wasn’t in earnest, of course, but even something insincere was more than Link had learned to expect from the rito. Perhaps Revali had really started changing then. And if so, perhaps they could be friends after all, which would be…

Link didn’t get to finish that thought. Zelda, pretending she had come to accept to accept Revali’s apology, took her chance and pushed Link off of the rito and into the water. She laughed as she did this, soon joined by Revali himself and the little gorons. After that, it was each for themselves, everyone pushing one another and trying to get anyone a little bit wetter than they were themselves. That little war didn’t end until sunset when Daruk joined them to get everyone home. He seemed delighted to find the hylians had returned, but tactfully didn’t ask them how their little mission had gone, perhaps because one glance he exchanged with Revali told him what he needed to know.

After that busy afternoon, Link welcomed the quiet evening in Daruk’s house. They had all dried quickly in the heat of the volcano, but the warm bowl of soup prepared for them was still very much welcome. Link was so tired the bowl almost missed his mouth a few times. Though she too must have been exhausted, Zelda took over the conversation while they ate, explaining all the ways she wanted to test the new guardians found in Rudania and how she hoped to use them in combat if it came to that. Normally Link would have listened attentively, just to have an idea of the ways he might have to protect her from her own experiments, but that night he found himself distracted.

No matter how hard he tried, the hylian couldn’t help but look at Revali who, out of all of them, was paying the highest price for their water games. The rito had to put all his feathers back into place and in their rightful shape, for which he used a small bottle of oil and a lot of patience. It was a pleasant sight to have Revali slowly returning to his normal looks, something that Link enjoyed perhaps more than he should have.

“It’s rude to stare,” Revali muttered after a while, not even bothering to look up from his task. “What, you want to help with the mess you made?”

Link felt heat creep up his cheeks. Guilt perhaps, because he was the one who’d forced Revali into the water to begin with.

“I can if you tell me how,” he replied tiredly, reaching out so the tip of his fingers brushed against black feathers.

At that, Revali did look up, his green eyes wide in shock. He stared for a second at Link’s hand before looking away, his feathers ruffling up.

“Idiot,” he grumbled, though he did not move.

Next to them, Zelda laughed as she pushed down Link’s hand.

“It’s a very forward thing to offer to a rito,” she explained. “If you weren’t hylian and clearly exhausted, it could pass for flirting, actually.”

The heat on Link’s cheeks increased, though nobody commented on that. In fact, the subject was quickly dropped, even by Revali who would have had every right to make fun of the hylian for his mistake. A few weeks ago, he would have been merciless about it. Link was glad of that change, and not just because it saved him from being mocked.

Still, something was odd, Link decided as he gave up and went to sleep. It took him a moment to understand what, exactly, had been strange, but he figured it out when his sleepy gaze fell on Revali, still tidying his feathers. Link had innocently said something he hadn’t known the implications of, but first Revali had made the offer, hadn’t he? As a joke only, but still, what an odd thing to have said if it meant something intimate for ritos. Perhaps Revali just hadn’t thought before speaking, as he tended to do. That had to be the reason. But then, why not push away Link’s hand? Revali hadn’t done a thing, he’d allowed that to happen until Zelda intervened. Why? After all, they weren’t even friends, they’d both made that clear.

Not friends _yet_ at least, but Link was more than ready to give the rito a last chance for that, he realised as he finally closed his eyes.The things he’d always liked about Revali were still there after all, but there was a new side to the rito. Link liked this new side of Revali, he liked seeing him joke and make Zelda laugh, the way he tried so hard to be careful around the little gorons, the sound of his laugh when it came from sincere fun rather than mockery, how soft his feathers felt.

They could be friends, he had always known that, and he couldn't wait to reach that point. But if more was to come between them… perhaps Link wouldn’t mind.


	11. Chapter 11

It took Zelda a good week to do all her tests on Vah Rudania, and it was pretty obvious she’d gladly have continued another week or two, if not for her father waiting for her in Castle Town. Revali had generously offered to fly there and explain things to the king so the princess could continue her studies a little longer. She had been very tempted, but had declined, knowing it would only make old Rhoam more angry when she finally returned. Revali hadn’t insisted, but it had been a good reminder of why he was glad he had no family and no one to force expectations onto him.

Without discussing it, Link, Daruk and Revali all kept a close eye on the princess as they made their way back toward Castle Town. They knew how reckless she could become when she was upset, and nothing could upset her quite like the perspective of meeting with her father. They all cared for her, Hylia’s blessing or not, and would let nothing harm her.

When they arrived at the gates of Castle Town and found Urbosa waiting for them, all four felt some of their tension lifted. Zelda, almost on the verge of tears, ran into the arms of her mother’s friend and allowed herself to be held close for a long while before they all made their way to the castle.

“I wasn’t halfway to the desert before I felt I would be more needed here,” Urbosa explained, one arm around the princess’s shoulders. “I won’t let you face him alone.”

“I can come too,” Daruk offered, his expression darker than Revali had ever seen. “There are things he won’t dare say before a goron, if he’s half as smart as he thinks he is.”

As silent as he ever was when there were people around, Link fiercely nodded. He’d be there too, of course. Wherever Zelda went he followed. Out of them all he’d be the only one powerless to stop the king if he berated his daughter too harshly, but he’d still stand at her side.

Revali found himself hesitating. He’d never liked that hylian king. If Daruk and the other gorons were too soft and tender, then Rhoam definitively fell into the opposite side of dubious parenting. For all that he claimed that parents needed to be tough, needed to let their children know how cruel and unforgiving the world was, Revali did not care much for Rhoam. Perhaps that was because he liked Zelda too much. Their princess wasn’t like him. Her father should have seen that harsh words were not the way to go to make her stronger, and switched to softer methods.

“I’ll come too, if you need the support,” Revali offered.

The other four stopped in their tracks and stared at him, unable to hide their shock. Then, one by one they all looked away, all but Link whose expression was unreadable.

“It’s nice of you to offer, little guy,” Daruk said, still avoiding Revali’s eyes as he patted his shoulder. “But we’ll handle it, don’t worry. Go and have some fun in town and we’ll meet up later, yeah?”

“It’d be for the best,” Urbosa agreed, looking at Daruk. “This will already be unpleasant enough, let’s avoid aggravating that old man if we don’t have to.”

“Sure,” Revali grunted. “It’s not exactly my idea of fun either anyway. Fine, I’ll see you later, good luck.”

He watched the other four go. After only a few steps, Link stopped in his tracks and glanced behind at the rito. He hesitated for a second before quickly coming back to Revali and grabbing his shoulder.

“Thanks for offering at least,” Link said. “It means a lot to her.”

Revali shrugged, not trusting himself to keep the bitterness out of his words if he said anything. Urbosa and Daruk were right, anyway. He tended to always make things worse even around people he liked, so in front of someone like Rhoam…

“It means a lot to me too,” Link added, almost a whisper, squeezing lightly on Revali’s shoulder.

He smiled weakly and bit his lip, almost as if he might say more. Before he could, Zelda called out his name further down the street and as always, the knight ran to his princess. Revali did not look away until their little group had disappeared, and even then it took him a few minutes to move. That damn hylian, always so cryptic about things! Link might as well have been a sheikah for how confusing he could be.

With nothing better to do, Revali walked the streets of Castle Town. He should have gone to the castle itself with the others really, even if he hadn’t gone to meet the king with them. The city held little appeal to him. And yet, to walk side by side with the others after they made it clear he still wasn’t fully one of them…

“They’d have let Mipha come,” he muttered to himself. “Well, why not, she’s a princess, she knows how to talk to assholes and be nice. Talks to me, doesn’t she?”

He kicked some dust on the ground. He did not even like being in the city. Too crowded, nowhere to take flight from. He’s only come here for Zelda’s sake. If she hadn’t looked so anxious, Revali would have returned to his home, his Divine Beast, his training ground. He stopped in the middle of the street, not paying attention to the people around who had to go out of their way not to bump into him.

Why not go home, after all? He wasn’t needed in Castle Town. Zelda had better people to help her deal with her father. The Champions probably wouldn’t do much until her last attempt to awaken her power at the Spring of Wisdom, and that wouldn’t happen until after her next birthday. He could go home, and not be missed. This much had just been proven. He’d just need to drop at the castle and ask the first soldier or servant he saw to warn Zelda and the others. It’d even be an easy way to avoid saying goodbye, something that was always rather unpleasant.

He could go home, he told himself insistently, glaring at the road under his feet. So why wasn’t he taking the necessary steps?

The answer hit him when he was forced to step aside to let a small cart pass in the street.

If he went home, he’d be alone.

That had never been a problem in the past, and it horrified him that it could be one now. He’d been alone all his life. Even when he was still living with his cousin, he’d been alone more often than not. In school he’d avoided other children so they wouldn’t have the chance to avoid him. Even after becoming a guard, he’d found ways to keep his coworkers at bay, always preferring assignments on his own when most others liked to be at least in a tandem. Being alone had just been the natural order of things.

Yet now, as he contemplated the option of going home, Revali realised with no small degree of horror that he would really miss the other champion’s company. Daruk’s annoying cheerfulness, Zelda’s overenthusiastic experiments, Urbosa’s calm wisdom, Mipha’s light teasing and… yes, definitively he would miss Link, but that one surprised him less. He’d more or less made his peace with the fact he did not entirely despise the hylian knight. That was the main reason he’d decided to experiment with being a little kinder, wasn’t it? And in the end, the two of them weren’t so different. But to like the others too was more of a shock. These were  _ important  _ people, all of them born to rule, so who was he to start liking them? Still he did and, shockingly, they liked him back.

Seemed like, in spite of his efforts, he’d made some friends.

Revali huffed. Well. That certainly hadn’t been the plan, and it would make things awkward when, after Ganon was defeated, they all went back to their own things and never had any occasion to interact with him again… but that was far in the future, wasn’t it? For now they were all together (well, nearly, since Mipha hadn’t returned from Zora’s Domain yet) and if Revali wasn’t any good at protecting people against angry kings, he was sure he’d find other ways to help.

  
  


The meeting with king Rhoam had gone about as well as could be hoped. Which means it had been particularly unpleasant, but in the presence of two important dignitaries, Rhoam hadn’t been able to release all of his venom. With that behind them, and because nobody wanted to get near that man again for a day or two, Revali suggested they had a picnic in the castle’s gardens.

“I could ask to have something brought to one of our rooms,” Zelda countered, clearly baffled by the idea.

“Boring. It’d be like being on the road, but with actually nice food and the certainty to sleep in a real bed, how is my idea not better?”

“I’m not sure…”

“It’s summer and night will fall late,” Urbosa said, her hand on the princess’s shoulder. “It could be nice. We do that sometimes at home.”

The instant Urbosa approved of the idea, so did everyone else. For half a second, it almost annoyed Revali that it hadn’t been good enough when it came from him. The thought left as fast as it had come. Urbosa wasn’t taking credit for his idea, she was agreeing with him and giving her approval so Zelda wouldn’t be worried about doing something bad.

Teamwork. Not such a bad concept after all.

The picnic was quick to organise. If Zelda never could have her father’s approval, the servants seemed to like her well enough. They were more than willing to give her plenty of cold meats and pies that had been prepared already, and the head cook even took time to make pancakes and whipped up a gorgeous cake filled with all sorts of fruit for them. Zelda’s favourite, judging by her reaction.

“She shouldn’t have,” Zelda complained, not for the first time, as she put the beautiful cake right at the center of the comforter they’d laid out on the grass. “It’s supposed to be a cake for special occasions, you know. Father only ever orders it for my birthday.”

“Why?” Revali asked, dropping the plate of pies he’d been carrying next to the cake. “She made it fast, she could made it often.”

The way Zelda froze, eyes wide, told him that it had been the wrong question to ask.

“It is not good to indulge too much,” the princess whispered, looking down at the cake with regret. “As the vessel for Hylia’s power, I must have fortitude.”

Revali glanced at the other three. Their pity for the little princess mirrored his own, though he could see burning anger boiling under the surface of Urbosa’s eyes. Someday, that woman would let her anger explode against Rhoam, and Revali hoped he’d be around to see it because it would be sure to be satisfying. 

“Well, I’m just an asshole with a bow, and fortitude sucks,” Revali announced, grabbing a knife and cutting a piece of cake. He carefully dropped it on a plate, and handed it to Zelda who hesitated. “Very rude to refuse food from a rito. We are an easily offended people.”

With a shy smile, Zelda took the plate. When Revali had glared at her long enough, she ate a spoonful of cake and finally relaxed a little. After that, they all started chatting about the food, commenting on the excellent skills of the castle’s cooks, discussing what they missed the most from home. Daruk was at a clear disadvantage in that conversation, but he nodded politely as Urbosa described the spicy dishes of the desert, or when Revali tried to describe the frozen treats they made in summer using fresh mountain snow. Link contributed nothing of his own, but looked positively wistful over all these delicacies and Revali promised himself that come summer, he’d find a way for Link to have shaved ice in rito village.

For now though, Revali’s focus on Zelda. She didn’t look quite as pitiful as she had after the meeting with her father, but still a far cry from the lively girl she could be sometimes when she was deep in her studies. Revali couldn’t stand at her side the way to others did, he couldn’t speak the right words to protect her from the father who’d never done a kind thing for her, but he had other talents to lift her spirits.

Link was about to bite into one of those delicate looking pancakes when a gust of wind sent it flying against his face. Zelda, at last, burst out laughing at the sight of her stern protector’s face covered by the pastry. Link glared at Revali, who blinked innocently and brushed imaginary dust from his wing in a silent boast.

“You’re really too mean sometimes,” Zelda chuckled with a grin, giving Revali’s shoulder a soft slap. “What’s your excuse this time?”

“Baseless accusation, you can’t prove anything,” he proudly retorted, as if Urbosa and Daruk hadn’t  _ seen  _ him do it.

The gerudo’s eyes shone and she smirked.

“Sometimes we have kids behaving the way you do,” Urbosa said. “You’ll find a girl who will always tease the same other child, pull her hair, pinch her arm and steal her toys. I’ll tell you what we try to teach them: if you like someone, that’s the worst way to go about it.”

Revali blinked at her a few times, unsure what that had to do with anything. Around them, the mood was quickly changing. Zelda looked torn about wanting to laugh. Daruk seemed a little confused. Link…  _ no way _ Revali was going to  _ look  _ at Link because he suddenly understood what Urbosa was trying to say.

“Wait, you think I like Link?” he laughed, a little awkwardly. “That’s ridiculous. Love is the business of fools.”

“It was just a reflection I was making myself,” Urbosa retorted, still smirking. “Of course, I could be wrong about you acting like a silly lovestruck child.”

Revali glared at her, then dared a glance at Link. They eyes met for a second, the hylian’s expression unreadable, his cheeks quickly colouring red. In anger, Revali told himself, knowing at least this much about the way hylians expressed emotions. The last thing Link could ever want was for some over ambitious and aggressive rito guard to crush on him. Not that such a crush existed in the first place. Revali didn’t have time for that sort of nonsense.

Of course, until recently, he hadn’t had time for friends either.

And Link was a friend, maybe,  _ nearly _ . He would be a friend once he forgave Revali’s past misdeeds, they would get along, they would train together and maybe chat, they would have shaved ice and Link would tell him what his favourite food was so they could have that too. It would be nice. Just the thought of if made his heart beat faster. He couldn’t wait for things to be better, for them to spend time together and know for sure Link no longer hated him. For Link to smile at him more, and talk to him the way he apparently never did with anyone but Revali.

But that was just friendship. It had to be.

Or it would have been. Link’s face was still so  _ red _ , he absolutely  _ refused  _ to look at Revali, everything was  _ ruined _ , all because Urbosa’s bad joke.

“Damn right you’re wrong!” Revali hissed, jumping to his feet, furious that all his efforts had been for nothing. “I don’t have time for things like that!”

Urbosa, realising at last that her teasing had hit something to sensitive, frowned. She looked like she was going to say something, an apology perhaps. Nothing she could say would change the fact that Link was clearly back to hating him though, so Revali did not want to hear it.

He stormed off before the others could stop him and, as soon as he could do so without further ruining their picnic, he summoned his gale to take flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting nearer the end of this fic at last (I'd say...2-3 chapters left max?)  
unsure if I like what I've done with this chapter but I've been stuck on it too long and just needed to get things moving

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Ibijau on tumblr if you ever wanna drop a prompt my way.  
Also I liked this and I'm posting it alone in case I decide to expand on it later


End file.
